


Positive and Negative Space

by sleepless86



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Architects, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dirty Talk, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Romance, Slow Burn, Slow Burn Rey/Kylo Ren, bridal carry, carrying kink
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-26
Updated: 2018-09-27
Packaged: 2019-05-29 00:43:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 46,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15061316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleepless86/pseuds/sleepless86
Summary: Rey let out a bemused little laugh. “Is that how you actually talk to people? On a regular basis? Or should I just count myself lucky?” When he didn’t reply, she turned back to his blueprints with a small shake of her head.Ben clenched his jaw. She was laughing at him? Who was this little no-name slip of a girl to laugh at him? He was Ben Fucking Solo, widely considered to be the talented heir apparent to Anakin Skywalker. Who was Rey Niima? She was nothing. Nothing at all....In which Ben Solo is a hot shot, socially awkward architect and Rey is an up and coming landscape designer/protege of the renowned Luke Skywalker.





	1. Greenhouse

**Author's Note:**

> This is my second ever fic and the very first I’ve written for this fandom. I’d love to hear if anyone likes the concept! 
> 
> …ok full disclosure, I’m very nervous to post this because there are some excellent writers in this fandom. Be gentle! 
> 
>  
> 
> "Positive space is the one conceived as a void, then wrapped in a built shell erected to define and contain it. Negative space is created by hollowing out a solid that already exists."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we meet Rey Niima, of Resistance Designs, and Ben Solo, hot shot architect for First Order Partners. They get along swimmingly, of course.

“Rey!”

 

Rey jumped, her pencil skidding across the plans she’d been working on all morning. She cursed under her breath, then glanced toward Luke’s office. He stood in the doorway, hands on his hips, looking slightly grumpier than usual.

 

“My office!” Luke barked before he disappeared inside.

 

“Uh oh, another trip to the principal, Rey?” Finn was smirking at her from his drafting table, which was directly next to hers. She noticed he kept his voice down, though; Finn was even more intimidated by the legendary Luke Skywalker than she was. Rey threw an eraser at him, hitting him squarely on the forehead. She grinned at his surprised expression and slid off her stool before he could retaliate.

 

Rey scurried nervously across the open floor, ignoring the curious glances of her colleagues. Resistance Designs’ offices were housed in a 20’s-era former soda bottling plant; the space was all poured concrete floors and exposed brick and bar joists. Luke’s office sat directly in the middle of the old factory floor, a modern cube of floor-to-ceiling glass walls that was pleasantly at odds with the building’s Art Deco style. Due to its unique design, Rey’s colleagues had dubbed it The Greenhouse.

 

Rey thought the nickname was particularly apt given that Luke kept the room consistently filled with his own hot air.

 

“Close the door, kid,” Luke muttered when Rey entered. He stood behind his desk, unrolling what looked to be an extensive set of plans and weighting the corners with various knickknacks from his desk.

 

Rey took a deep breath and perched herself on one of a pair of comfortable low-slung leather chairs. “If this is about the Peterson project, I just couldn’t bring myself to incorporate that god awful fountain. If you had seen it yourself, you’d have agreed with me. I will never understand old people and their obsession with those fat baby angels—“

  
“ _Cherubs_ , Rey.” Luke sighed. “They’re called _cherubs_. And I’m reassigning the Peterson project to Finn.”

 

Rey’s stomach knotted. _Shit._

 

“Luke, c’mon. There’s no need for that. I’ll apologize to Mrs. Peterson and figure out some—“

 

Luke looked at her in exasperation. “Rey, do you know, some employees actually let their _boss_ do the talking when they’ve been summoned to their office.”

 

She snapped her mouth shut obediently.

 

“Thank you. Now, what I was _going_ to tell you is that I’m pulling you off the Peterson project because I need you for something else...something slightly more high profile.” He paused. “What do you know about the new amphitheater project in Ahch-To Park?”

 

Rey shrugged. “Um…well, I know the city took bids from a dozen architectural firms, not all of them based in Atlanta. And I know First Order Partners got the gig. Word is, the design they chose is pretty spectacular, though that’s just speculation, since First Order hasn’t shown any plans or mock ups to the public.”

 

Luke nodded. “And what do you know about the landscape design for the project?”

 

Rey frowned. “I wasn’t aware the project demanded any sort of separate landscape design. Won’t First Order’s in-house people handle it?”

 

A smile spread slowly across Luke’s grizzled face and he shook his head. “The Mayor and a few councilmembers are determined that this newly developed piece of the park be completely environmentally sustainable. A few weeks ago, just before they awarded the project to First Order, I got a call, a quiet request for a set of plans that would complement their design.” Luke gestured to the drafts spread out in front of him. “The amphitheater is just the beginning. The city is developing an entire new area of the park over the next five or so years.”

 

Rey stood and hovered at the desk, her eyes raking over Luke’s designs hungrily. “But…isn’t the city required to solicit bids from other firms?”

 

“No. First Order’s contract with the city allows them full discretion in regards to sub-contracting. And the Mayor will be making it clear that Resistance Designs is, ah….their _only_ option when it comes to ‘scapers for this project. But we’ll technically be on their payroll for the duration of the project.”

 

Rey wrinkled her nose. “You’re ok with them stealing your thunder like that?”

 

“I’m not worried about thunder, Rey. I’ve gotten plenty of it in my lifetime. This project is going to be huge, and if we have the opportunity to implement a sustainable design on this scale…” Luke shrugged. “It’s the right thing to do, regardless of who gets the publicity for it.”

 

That, in a nutshell, was why Rey had fought tooth and nail for her internship with Luke last year. He may be the most famous landscape architect of his generation, but Luke was also, to Rey’s mind, the most ethical. “Where do I fit in to all of this?”

 

“I’d like you to be the project manager. You’ll represent Resistance Designs as landscape foreman for the duration of the build. You’ll also be acting as our…liaison…with First Order.”

 

Rey’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Me? You can’t be serious!” she exclaimed, her voice skipping up an octave.

 

Luke quirked a brow at her. “There’s a warehouse full of associates out there who would give their eye teeth for this kind of opportunity, Rey.”

 

“Of course, I know that. I mean, thank you so much, and I’m thrilled that you have such confidence in me,” Rey said in a high-pitched rush. “But you said yourself, this is a really high profile gig and I’m still pretty green and…I don’t know, Luke. Don’t you want to run it yourself?”

 

Luke rubbed at the back of his neck and sighed. “Rey, you’re one of the most promising talents I’ve seen come through my doors in a while. What’s more, I have every confidence that you’ll represent my designs faithfully.” The compliments came out gruffly, as though he were embarrassed to be caught offering her any sort of praise.

 

“I…thank you, Luke.”

 

Luke gave a grandfatherly little harrumph and flapped a dismissive hand at her. “Yeah yeah, well, don’t thank me yet. There’s something else you should know. The winning First Order design? It’s my nephew’s. And he and I…well, we don’t have the best relationship.”

 

_Oh, God. He means Ben Solo._

 

Rey knew a little of the Skywalker family history. She knew that Anakin Skywalker, Luke’s father, had been a wildly successful architect. And she knew that Luke’s twin sister, Leia, was a moderately famous philanthropist. But Leia’s son, Ben…well she’d _heard_ lots of things about him, but she had no idea how much of it was true. Depending on who you asked, Ben Solo was either a spoiled rotten hot head with a taste for fast cars or a Sorbonne-educated genius architect with no social skills. And yeah, she’d heard there’d been a dramatic falling out between him and his Uncle some years back.

 

But one thing was universally acknowledged when it came to Ben Solo: he was incredibly difficult to work with. He had exacting standards, an artist’s fragile ego, and a _legendary_ temper. Rey shuddered inwardly. What in God’s name made Luke think _she_ could handle Ben Solo?

 

* * *

 

Ben stood in front of Councilwoman Harrow’s desk and willed himself to wake up. He _had_ to be asleep, and this _had_ to be a nightmare, because it sounded as though she’d just said…

 

“Resistance Designs fits the bill perfectly, Ben. Your Uncle’s plans satisfy the Mayor’s sustainability requirements, and, if I may say so, they’re also absolutely stunning.”

 

_As if you could identify “stunning” with a fucking flashlight._

 

“Our contract allows for First Order to choose our landscape architect,” Ben gritted out. He could feel anger rising like a hot red tide within him. “I’d like to talk to the Mayor about this. There are other firms I could recom—“

 

Councilwoman Harrow looked up from the briefcase she’d been packing up. “It was the Mayor who requested your Uncle submit a set of plans in the first place,” she said in surprise. “I would have thought you’d have known.” She glanced at her watch and then smiled thinly at him. “Your Uncle’s firm is one of the best in the country, Ben. He’s an Atlanta institution. Frankly, this is a boon for the Mayor’s office.”

 

Ben was finding it hard to hear her over the relentless pounding of blood in his head. He swore he could feel that vein in his forehead throbbing. “My blueprints haven’t even been made public,” he choked out. “How is it that Skywalker managed to submit a complimentary design without seeing any of my plans?”

 

“Oh, we gave your uncle a peek,” the councilwoman trilled, betraying not one _shred_ of remorse for having taken such a liberty. Since Ben didn’t trust himself to respond in any sort of professional manner, he wisely elected to allow his infamous and ferocious glare communicate his feelings.

 

Harrow picked up her briefcase and pulled a purse from the top drawer of her desk. “I have a little league game to get to, Mr. Solo. I’m sure once you see Luke’s plans, you’ll see why we’re all _so_ excited to have you _both_ on the project.”

 

 _Well…shit._ Maybe his glare wasn’t that ferocious after all.

 

He was striding furiously to his car, already looking forward to scalding hot shower and a couple of fingers of really good scotch, when his assistant called.

 

“What is it Mitaka?” Ben barked. He slid into his Audi R8 and waited for his phone to change over to Bluetooth.

 

“I was just saying, sir, that Resistance Designs called to put some time on your schedule for tomorrow. They’re sending the girl over to discuss the Skywalker plans.”

 

Ben’s stomach did an odd, premonitory somersault that startled him, but the sensation was quickly lost amid the snarling and snapping of the fury-beast inside his chest. He had to hand it to his entitled _ass_ of an uncle: he worked fast. Ben gripped the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles went white as he growled,

 

**_“What girl?”_ **

 

* * *

 

 

Rey Niima was born in a town called Goodsprings, a ramshackle little desert village on the outskirts of Las Vegas. She found it hard to remember any real details about her parents. In her mind, they’re both shadowy figures distinguished only by a few random details. Her father is a tall man in blue jeans and embroidered cowboy boots, and her mother is a blonde woman with red fingernails and a cracked vinyl pocketbook.

 

Rey has scant few sense memories of the trailer they lived in. It was always, _always_ hot inside, and the scratchy carpet was brown. The bathroom door had a hole where the doorknob should have been. She really only has one _clear_ memory of her life before the foster system: the moment she first understood that her family was poor. That memory? Not shadowy at all. That memory may as well have been carved into her fucking soul.

 

In it, she was standing outside of a gas station or convenience store or something with her mother. She’d already had her backside swatted for doing something wrong, whining or pestering or whatever…Rey remembers the gritty, tight feeling of dried salty tears on her face. Her mother was talking to a man who must have worked there…he was wearing a green apron. Rey watched as her mother gripped his forearm, her red nails making little indentations into his tan skin. She was begging him for something. The man was growing more and more agitated, and he finally shook off his mother’s hand and went back inside.

 

Her mother yanked her up by the arm from where she sat on the sidewalk and shoved her towards their shitty car, muttering obscenities the entire time. Just as she was climbing into the back seat, the man came out again, this time holding a plastic bag full of milk and boxed mac n cheese. Instead of handing the bag to her mother, the man thrust it into Rey’s tiny arms with a hard look.

 

“Make sure your mamma feeds you tonight, you hear? I won’t be able to sleep tonight thinking about the way she’s starving you.”

 

That was the first time Rey felt shame. She didn’t understand exactly what she’d done wrong, but she knew from the man’s face that he didn’t like her or her mother, and that he was better than them somehow.

 

Ever since that day, Rey had been fighting that nagging feeling that she wasn’t as good as the people around her, the persistent conviction that she was a cut below the company. The feeling followed her everywhere. It followed her to grade school, when all her clothes came from Goodwill. It followed her to Louisiana State, when every meal she ate came from the campus cafeteria because she didn’t have the money to eat outside of her scholarship meal plan. It followed her to Atlanta, when, to her eternal shame, she had to sleep in her car for the first month of her internship just so she could save enough money for a security deposit on her tiny studio apartment.

 

But then Luke Skywalker had hired her full-time, called her talent “promising”, and had entrusted her to carry out his plans for one of the most ambitious landscaping projects that the city had ever seen. And if Luke fucking Skywalker had found her worthy, then surely she could find _herself_ the equal of anyone working in the sleek, polished, _unnaturally quiet_ offices of First Order Partners.

 

This place gave Rey the creeps, dammit.

 

Rey glanced again at the immaculately groomed receptionist and stifled the urge to pat at her own hair, which was pulled into what had _seemed_ a like a tidy topknot in the mirror this morning. Looking at the woman’s lacquered perfection was making Rey second-guess her not only her hair, but also her casual blazer-and-skinny-jeans combo and decision to wear flats instead of heels.

 

“Miss Niima?” A small, nervous man had appeared at the doorway of the reception area. He was pale and had the look of someone who was always just a _little bit_ sweaty.

 

“Yes, that’s me.”

 

He seemed unimpressed. “I’m Mitaka, Mr. Solo’s assistant. Follow me, please.”

 

Rey gathered up her file tube and leather satchel and followed the assistant through a couple of carpeted hallways. The entire office was as quiet as the reception area, making Rey wonder if anyone was actually _here_ or if this was some sort of _The Shining_ situation. Maybe Mitaka and the receptionist were merely the caretakers of this creepy ass place and eventually all work and no play were going to make Mitaka a dull—

 

Rey narrowly avoided running into Mitaka when he pulled up short in front of a heavy wooden door fitted with a gold nameplate that read _B. Solo_. The assistant knocked. “Yeah, it’s open,” came a low voice from the other side.

 

That low voice sent a frission of nervous anticipation up Rey’s spine.

 

 _“You deserve to be here,”_ Rey reminded herself. She squared her shoulders as the assistant swung the door open.

 

* * *

 

 

Ben sat hunched at his drafting table, pencil moving furiously. It was 9:30AM, but he’d already been in his office for hours. He paused briefly to shake out his hand and crack his neck.

 

He’d had The Dream again last night, the same one that had been haunting him ever since his return to Atlanta nearly a year ago. He’d never experienced recurring dreams before this one. Ben suspected that it was a side effect of being near his family again, of breathing the same rarified air as the legendary Skywalker twins.

 

It was always the same:

 

He stood in a desert at sundown, the earth sandy and dry, rock outcroppings casting long shadows in the waning light. He was on some sort of ridge or high ground, looking down at a bone-dry riverbed. ( _Arroyo_ …that was the word he’d found after some googling.) It stretched as far as he could see to his right and left, bounded by another ridge that rose a few hundred yards opposite him. Dream Ben felt something like awe mixed with…not fear, exactly. Perhaps a certain wariness. This land was brutal and punishing and savagely beautiful.

 

Then Dream Ben would suddenly realize that his Uncle Luke was now standing next to him on the ridge, watching him with sad eyes. And there was something beyond Luke, over his shoulder. Some _one._ Dream Ben could never make the person out, though he was always desperate to do so. Then Dream Luke would put his hand on Dream Ben’s shoulder and say, gently, “You’re not ready.”

 

Then Ben would wake up, annoyed, frustrated, and itching for his drafting pencils. He’d had the dream maybe six times now, and each time he woke with an energy that was almost feverish and a handful of design ideas that demanded to be committed to paper. They were always just inklings; it wasn’t as though he woke up with fully formed blueprints in his head or anything like that. But Ben had enough of an artist’s creative temperament to know that when inspiration struck, it was best to channel it immediately and single-mindedly into something tangible. No, inspiration wasn’t something Ben Solo took for granted anymore.

 

And so Ben left his midtown apartment in the wee hours of the morning, driving north to the Buckhead offices of First Order Partners with the top down. The roads had still been wet from an overnight storm and the humid air almost obscenely fragrant without the choke of rush hour exhaust. June in Georgia.

 

 A knock on his office door startled him slightly, but he remained resolutely focused on his work. Some independently functioning part of his brain grunted out, “Yeah, it’s open.”

 

“Ahem, Mr. Solo? Rey Niima from Resistance Designs is here for you.”

 

Now that _did_ get his attention, but Ben forced himself to keep his head bowed over his desk. He was intensely curious about the girl...woman…his uncle had decided was worthy of representing his designs, but it wouldn’t do to seem overly interested in her. She was undoubtedly one of his uncle’s devoted followers, yet another infuriating acolyte worshiping at his Teva-and-sock clad feet.

 

“Thank you, Mitaka. That will be all.” Ben heard his assistant leave. He kept drawing without sparing a glance in his guest’s direction, pettily thinking he’d make this Rey Niima squirm just a bit. He let a full sixty seconds of silence drag out without acknowledging her at all.

 

But if Ben had hoped to make Rey uncomfortable, he was sorely disappointed. Rey didn’t so much as clear her throat. The seconds dragged on.

 

Now _he_ felt uncomfortable. And kind of stupid. And not a little childish. Tossing his pencil down, Ben finally looked up. He wasn’t prepared for…well, really for anything that happened next. 

 

He first saw her in profile. She’d wandered over to look at one of the half dozen or so framed blueprints that decorated the walls of his office. She was studying it with unrestrained and apparently unselfconscious curiosity, brow furrowed ever so slightly. She stood with her hands shoved in the back pockets of her jeans, which had the effect of opening up her stance in a way that invoked a certain fearlessness. Or recklessness.

 

She was just this side of slight…the word _lithe_ came to mind. She didn’t seem particularly tall, though then again no one really did to Ben; he towered over almost everyone. But she certainly wasn’t short, that couldn’t be possible, not with those coltish long legs that kept drawing his eye.

 

Her hair was a nondescript brown, but the way she’d pinned it up made it impossible not to notice the swanlike grace of her neck and collarbone. From this angle, she looked a bit fragile, though Ben supposed the poetic word for her would be “delicate.” He felt an unwelcome flare of attraction low in his gut.

 

_Nope. No, Ben. No._

 

Ben cleared his throat. “Taliesin West,” he said, referring to the blueprint.

 

Rey turned to face him fully and smiled. “I know,” she said brightly.

 

He revised his earlier assessment of her features. While everything else about her face might be fine boned and delicate, her smile was anything but. It was megawatt and pure, and it hit him like a blow to the solar plexus.

 

He blinked at her, certain for just a moment that he _knew_ her somehow. There was something so _familiar_ about her. But that was impossible. There was no way they’d met before. Ben would never have forgotten it if they had.

Rey was still beaming at Ben, though her smile was growing uncertain. He realized he’d been silent too long. Ben swiftly compartmentalized, shoving his troubling reaction to her into some remote mental closet for later examination.

 

Summoning every available ounce of cool detachment he possessed, Ben stepped forward and held out his hand.

 

“Ben Solo.”

 

Rey clasped his hand firmly in return and Ben forced himself to ignore the zip of electricity that shot through him at the touch of her small warm fingers.

 

“Rey Niima. It’s a pleasure.”

 

“We’ll see,” he said coldly.

 

Her eyes widened at his rudeness and Ben felt a surprising pang of guilt when he saw the beginnings of an indignant flush creep across her cheeks.

 

Swallowing the urge to apologize, he gestured toward pair of oxblood leather armchairs that flanked a sizable coffee table in the center of the room. “Have a seat, Miss Niima.” He said it like a command, not a request. She needed to know her place in all this: she was an employee, not a creative partner.

 

She regarded him for a beat, then obeyed. “Call me Rey,” she said once she’d settled into the chair.

 

Ben shrugged carelessly. “Sure.”

 

Rey quirked a brow at him. “And I hope I’m not expected to call you Mr. Solo.” The broad, sincere grin from earlier had been replaced by a guarded smirk. His doing.

 

“Of course not,” Ben murmured, feeling stupid again. “Ben is fine.”

 

Before he knew what he was saying, he asked, “Can I have Mitaka bring you anything? Something to drink? Breakfast?”

 

Rey’s eyes narrowed slightly and she regarded him with a tilted head, clearly puzzled by his hot and cold behavior. Not that he blamed her. “I’m fine, thank you.”

 

He grabbed the tube of plans he’d had Mitaka copy last night and unfurled them on coffee table. Rey immediately leaned forward and began to study them with an unconcealed eagerness rattled him. Actually, everything about her rattled him. He watched with growing unease as she traced slender fingers across the pages, furious at himself when he realized he was hoping she liked what she saw. She reached one hand to her neck and began to play absently with a tendril of hair that had fallen at her nape. The way she twisted and untwisted the lock around her finger was mesmerizing, looping it twice clockwise, then twice counterclockwise…

 

Ben shook himself. Christ, he had to get her out of here. He needed to return to his drafting. Drafting made sense. He felt a rush of resentment toward this waif with the long legs for distracting him.

 

“Only a handful of people have seen these plans, and I’d prefer to keep it that way as long as possible. I trust that if I let you take this set home, they won’t end up on the front page of the AJC by Sunday?”

 

Rey looked up at him and let out a bemused little laugh. “Is that how you actually talk to people? On a regular basis? Or should I just count myself lucky?” When he didn’t reply, she turned back to his drawings with a small shake of her head.

 

Ben clenched his jaw. She was _laughing_ at him? Who was this little no name slip of a girl to laugh at him? So she’d sized him up and found him wanting, was that it? Well, screw her. His buildings spoke for themselves. He was Ben Fucking Solo, widely considered to be the talented heir apparent to Anakin Skywalker. Who was _Rey Niima_? She was nothing. Nothing at all.

 

He watched as she leaned closer to inspect an elevation rendering, then suddenly flipped a few pages back to look at a detailed drawing of the amphitheater’s stage platform. She flipped back and forth between the two pages once more, her brow furrowed.

 

_I’ll be damned. It took Hux two days to see—_

 

“Oh, fan _tas_ tic,” she breathed quietly. She looked up at him, earnest excitement plain on her face. “It’s a submerged stage!”

 

Ben nodded mutely, fairly stunned at how quickly she’d grasped the design’s main concept.

 

She bent over the plans again, seeing everything with greater understanding. “Ben, this is remarkable,” she murmured quietly.

 

_Oh. This feeling. More of this feeling please._

 

Ben’s heart skipped around a little and he was horrified to feel a blush creeping up his neck; he knew the tips of his giant ears were scarlet beneath his hair.

 

He had just managed to work up the courage to thank her when she went and ruined it all.

 

“Now I understand what Luke is trying to do,” she said to herself. “Ground the grandeur…make it more accessible…”

 

And just like that, the jealous, insecure beast in Ben’s chest roared to life.

 

Trust Luke to try and _democratize_ his work, make it _common,_ instead of allowing it to stand tall and proud and _strong_. And Rey’s voice when she spoke Luke’s name…oh yes, she was an acolyte, alright, a devotee of that naïve, adolescent, _self-indulgently_ naturalist aesthetic that set Ben’s teeth on edge.

 

Though…she’d _also_ managed to decipher his schematics in record time. 

 

 _Who_ are _you?_

It wasn’t until he saw her shoulders stiffen that he realized he’d asked the question aloud. And judging from the way her face hardened, he hadn’t used a very kind tone.

 

“To you? No one, I’m sure.” She stood and began to roll up the plans. “My family was neither rich nor famous. Even so, your uncle seems to think I have _some_ talent for this work.”

 

Her voice was brittle, and Ben realized that he’d finally managed to wound her. Of _course_ the only one of his barbs that happened to land was one he hadn’t actually meant to throw. And he hadn’t missed that she spoke of her family in the past tense.

 

_Shit shit shit Ben you ASS._

 

“Listen, I didn’t mean it like—“

 

Rey fixed Ben with a bland smile that said _don’t bother apologizing, I’ve already forgotten it._ It also said  _you’re just as horrible as they say you are_ and _I find you spoiled and unpleasant._

 

Rey capped Ben’s plans and nodded at the tube that she’d brought for him. It was leaning against the wall beneath the Taliesin West blueprint. “Those are Luke’s. Look at them, don’t look at them…up to you. I’ll be in touch.”

 

She left without a backward glance. 


	2. Bioswales

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Mitaka has a bad morning, Rey takes Ben's phone call, and the bioswales get a bad rap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Thanks to the positive feedback I've gotten, it's full steam ahead for this little story. I'm not sure how many chapters we're looking at yet, but it'll probably be somewhere around 15. I'll be updating every 5-7 days. Join me on this little adventure! If you like it, spread the word!
> 
> ...also, I love comments, comments make me happy :) kaythxbai

It was late. Far too late for Rey to still be at the office.

 

She stood up and made another lap around the massive table in the conference room, which she’d commandeered as soon as she’d returned from the First Order offices. She needed room to spread out, she reasoned, needed to see both the Solo and Skywalker plans side by side. And unlike Luke’s office, the conference room walls were solid brick. Ben’s snarky comment about leaking the plans to the newspaper aside, Rey didn’t want them floating around the main work floor.

 

Rey had tacked most of the drafts up on the display board that ran the length of the room, Ben’s lined in a row with Luke’s just below. She’d been studying them both together for hours now, and had felt by turns exhilarated, exasperated, alarmed…now she just felt exhausted and woefully unqualified for the role Luke had thrust her into.

 

Both designs were exceptional, no question. They were more than that actually; they were career defining, even for an established landscape architect like Luke. But while Rey could see Luke’s concept, could see how his design was meant to complement Ben’s structure by contradicting it, she couldn’t shake the impression that Luke’s vision seemed to willfully misunderstand the vitality of Ben’s.

 

Or hell, maybe _she_ was the one who didn’t get it. Maybe she was missing something.

 

_Maybe I’m hopelessly outclassed and completely out of my depth._

Her thoughts turned, for the millionth time today, to her meeting with Ben Solo. The rumors of his arrogance certainly hadn’t been exaggerated, that much was clear. The man had elevated aloofness to an art form. He’d been unaccountably rude, too, though his heart hadn’t seemed in it. Rey suspected Ben’s rudeness was more a defense mechanism than an innate character flaw.

 

Odd that none of the rumors she’d heard about Ben Solo had alluded to how good looking he was. She’d been completely unprepared for it, and had had to force herself not to stare at first. His large frame bent over his desk, backlit by the morning sun streaming through his office window, a dark lock of hair falling across his forehead…Rey wasn’t proud of it, but yeah, Ben’s whole tall, dark and moody thing kind of did it for her.

 

Not that she expected _that_ to be a problem. Ben Solo might be attractive, but he was an ass. And even if he weren’t an ass, Rey doubted his taste in women ran to foster system desert trash like herself.

 

Rey began to gather up her things, tucking her notes into her satchel. She had about a million questions for Ben and she wasn’t yet sure how she was supposed to go about asking them. She doubted he would be enthusiastic about her dropping by for another face-to-face meeting, and the thought of talking to him on the phone made her insides squirm. It would have to be an email.

  
Rey yawned so wide that her jaw cracked.

 

 _Tomorrow_ , she thought as she flipped off the conference room lights, _I’ll email him tomorrow_.

 

 

* * *

 

Dopheld Mitaka could usually tell what kind of day he was about to have within two minutes of Ben Solo’s arrival in the office. Today it only took him about twenty seconds to decide he was going to make himself as scarce as possible.

 

Mitaka was waiting for Ben at the elevator, just as he did every morning, holding a coffee and the day’s schedule. The doors were barely half-open when his boss fairly exploded through them, expression thunderous. Ben ignored the coffee and thrust a file tube into Mitaka’s hands.

 

“I want Luke Skywalker on the phone in five minutes,” he growled as he stormed by.

 

Mitaka caught the receptionist’s sympathetic look before he scurried down the hall after him. _Damn his long legs._

 

He should have known something was up after yesterday’s meeting with Rey Niima. She hadn’t stayed long, but afterwards, when Mitaka had stepped into Ben’s office to remind him of his 10:30 meeting, he’d found his boss standing weirdly close to the wall, staring at of one of his framed blueprints and looking rather perplexed.

 

Ben had left the office shortly after that, instructing Mitaka to cancel all his meetings for the day.

 

Mitaka hurried to his desk to phone Resistance Designs. “I’ve got Ben Solo for Luke Skywalker,” he informed a pleasant sounding assistant.

 

“I’m sorry, Mr. Skywalker isn’t in today. He’s taken a last minute trip to Barcelona and won’t be returning for a few weeks.” Mitaka squeezed his eyes shut. This was _not_ good. “I’ve been instructed to route all calls from Mr. Solo to Rey Niima. Hold please!”

 

Mitaka took a deep breath and pressed the intercom button. “Mr. Solo, I have—“

 

But Ben picked up the line before Mitaka could finish.

 

_Ah, hell._

 

The assistant rubbed his temples for a few seconds before he began gathering his things. Perhaps today would be a good day to “work remotely” from an undisclosed location.

* * *

 

 

Ben Solo was about twelve years old when he first heard someone reference his _anger issues_. He’d been sitting outside the headmaster’s office of his prestigious private school, the same one his mother and uncle had attended, nursing a bloody nose and eavesdropping on the conversation happening inside.

 

The headmaster was speaking in muffled, concerned tones. Ben caught the words “ _temper…unsafe environment…anger issues…addressed now…professional…”_

Then his father’s booming, incredulous voice, “If you think we’re sending Ben to a kiddy therapist, you’re out of your damn mind!”

 

Leia’s voice, softer but no less firm. “I know our son has a…fiery…nature. But I hardly think he’s some sort of _threat_ to his peers.”

 

Ben heard Han snort. “Ben? A threat? C’mon, he’s the smallest kid in his class! He’s out there with a broken nose, buddy. Seems to me like the _other_ kid is the real thr—“

The headmaster was talking again. Ben braced himself, knowing the man was filling his parents in on the extent of _the other kid’s_ injuries. Ben may have been small for his age, but, once provoked, he lashed out with surprising ferocity. Poor Tyler Kilbey had been sent home with a busted mouth, a missing tooth, and two black eyes.  

 

 _Freak._ That’s what they’d called him. Ben’s intelligence, peculiar intensity, and unpredictable moods had put him at odds with kids his age. Hell, it put him at odds adults his age _now_.

 

After that, Ben’s mother and father began sending him to Luke’s farm outside the city on the weekends. _Luke used to be mad all the time too_ , Leia had explained. _He can show you how to get rid of the anger._

 

Ben stood in front of his desk, fists clenched at his sides, waiting for Mitaka to put the call through. Ironically, after all those years spent meditating and centering with his uncle, it was he who still managed to provoke Ben more effectively than anyone else. But that was fine. Ben no longer struggled to deny his passionate nature, not since Snoke had showed him how essential it was to his work, how that same passion had pushed Anakin Skywalker to profound success. His mentor had taught him to focus instead on forging his hot, unwieldy temper into cool, steely ambition.

 

His phone lit up and Ben snatched it up, ignoring Mitaka and punching the blinking red light to connect. Ben was about to remind Luke who the fuck he was dealing with. He was looking forward to it, in fact.

 

“Are you so hard up for work that you have to resort to begging the mayor for a piece of my project? I saw your plans, Luke. A bit reductive, even for you. And if you think for _one second_ that I’m going to let you flank my structure with those dirty fucking ditches you love so much, you’re _sorely_ mistaken. You can sell your granola elsewhere, old man.”

 

A pause. _Come on, you bastard, say something, get mad. Don’t pull that zen master bullsh—_

“Dirty fucking ditches?” The voice that growled through the receiver was angry alright, but it certainly wasn’t Luke’s. Ben closed his eyes and his heart did a little stutter.

_The girl. Of_ course _it’s the girl._

 

“I assume you’re referring to the bioswales that are going to ensure the asses of any concert-goers remain nice and dry.”

 

“I asked for Luke,” Ben gritted out, embarrassed. He _hated_ that he was embarrassed.

 

“Oh, believe me, I wish he was here to take this call. Unfortunately, he packed himself off to Barcelona last night without so much as a by your leave.” Ben could hear the frustration in Rey’s voice, along with a dash of tightly reined panic. _So_ , he thought with dark pleasure, _she’s starting to realize that pedestal she’s put him on might be a little too grand._

 

Ben barked out a bitter laugh. “Barcelona, eh? I’m not surprised. It’s one of his favorite hiding places. Hundred bucks says right now he’s sitting in a grotto in Park Guell, _reestablishing his center_.”

 

He got nothing but silence from the other end. It stretched out a beat longer than Ben could stand because, goddamn it, this Rey girl—woman—made him antsy as hell. He felt like his fucking skin was buzzing.

 

“Park Guell? It’s this famous park that was designed by an architect named—“

 

“SERIOUSLY?” Ben winced and pulled the handset away from his ear. “I fucking _know_ who fucking _Gaudi_ is, you _CONDESCENDING ASS!”_

 

He threw his eyes heavenward. God _damn_ it. He’d spent a long, sleepless night going over Luke’s designs, which meant he had been nursing a stomach full of rage for the past twelve hours. Now all he wanted was to exercise his fury by trading some hateful barbs with his estranged uncle. Was that really so much to ask?

 

Although, actually…Ben didn’t feel much like yelling anymore, and the rage in his belly had curiously evaporated. In fact, he found he didn’t mind so much that it was Rey on the phone instead of Luke, even if she _was_ spitting mad. Condescending ass, was he? He could work with that. He’d been called a lot worse.

 

“Fine. You know Gaudi,” he conceded. Against all conceivable reason, Ben felt his mouth curve into a rusty smile.

 

He heard Rey blow out a long breath, as though she was willing herself calm.

 

“I sent you an email this morning,” she said warily. “I spent most of yesterday going through your plans and I have a lot of questions. So if you could just, you know…get back to me with the answers,” another sigh, “that would be great.”

 

Ben frowned. “I hate email.”

 

“Of course you do,” Rey muttered. He heard a dull thump on her end, and Ben just _knew_ she’d dropped her head onto her desk. His smile widened into a grin. _Damn_ , he was enjoying this. This was _fun._

_Fuck it._

“I have some time today. I can come to you.” Ben was _way_ past examining his motives now. He only knew that seeing scrappy, doe-eyed, Rey-with-the-long-legs-Niima was suddenly his one and _only_ priority. 

 

“H-here? To Resistance?”

 

“Yeah. Your office.”

 

“I-uh, yeah I suppose that’s fine…”

 

“Great, I’ll be there in an hour.”

* * *

 

 

The bastard hung up on her. Just like that. _Great, I’ll be there in an hour, *click*._

 

Rey blinked at her handset for a couple of seconds before slamming it down. “Effing a,” she groaned.

 

“Everything ok over there, peanut?” Finn was looking at her with concern, which made Rey feel guilty for some reason. She still hadn’t gotten used to the whole “having friends” thing; having someone who cared about whether she had, say, a bad phone call was still a bit of a novelty to her.

 

“It’s nothing,” she huffed, “well, it’s not _nothing_ , but like, don’t worry about it. It’s not a big deal.” Rey bit her lip and scowled at her desk phone, wondering just how she should prepare for this…meeting, if that’s what it was.

 

Finn cleared his throat, and when Rey looked up he was looking at her with vague amusement.  “What’s going on, Rey? Aside from a rather loud defense of your knowledge of Gaudi?”

 

Rey grimaced, hating that she’d lost her cool so quickly. “Ben Solo is coming here to talk about the project. And Luke is in fucking _Barcelona,_ because apparently rich men can fuck off to Europe any time the mood strikes them.”

 

Finn’s eyes widened and he whistled softly. “Ben Solo, huh? The legend himself.”

 

Rey sighed. “Yep. His royal highness demands an audience. I better prepare the throne room.”

 

Rey made sure that the conference room she’d been using yesterday was booked for the rest of the day. Then organized her notes. Then she spent the next forty-five minutes pacing around the office, too agitated to do any actual work. She made herself some Earl Grey in the breakroom, took too big a gulp and scalded her tongue. She started to tidy her desk, then felt stupid for fussing and settled for simply brushing away the pencil shavings and eraser scrubbings.

 

And yeah, ok, she went to the ladies’ and checked her hair and makeup, glaring in the mirror at the slight flush on her cheeks.

 

_For fuck’s sake, get it together._

 

Rey jumped when Jessika, the receptionist, rang her desk phone to inform her that Mr. Solo had arrived and suddenly Rey wished she were anywhere else.

 

It must have shown on her face, because Finn offered her a sympathetic smile. “He’s just a dude, you know? He’s human like the rest of us.”

 

She found him staring sullenly out a window in the reception area, arms crossed, looking too big for the room. He was dressed more casually than he had been the day before. He wore expensive looking dark jeans and a grey short sleeve button up and _well, hello_ , Ben Solo had some serious arms. He radiated a sort of tightly harnessed energy; his face was relaxed, but the way the muscles of his long crossed forearms were bunching and shifting brought to mind a jungle cat kneading the ground before pouncing on its prey.

 

And suddenly Rey decided, she just goddamn _decided,_ that she wasn’t going to be intimidated by this man. _Not today, Satan_ and all that. He might have the prestigious education and possess stunning natural talent, his clothes might cost more than a month of her groceries, and, yes, fine, he might be _distractingly_ good looking. But Finn was right, Ben Solo was just a man. Rey had a job to do, and cowering in his presence wasn’t going to help her do it.

 

Rey caught Jessika’s eye and was amused to see a look of relief pass over the receptionist’s face. “Oh, Rey, great, you’re here.”

 

Ben turned from the window and regarded her silently, his expression unreadable.

 

Rey straightened to her full height, glad she’d opted for a pair of heeled suede booties this morning. The added inches meant she didn’t have to crane her neck quite so much when he approached her.

 

“Well,” she said in her most no nonsense voice, “I guess you’d better follow me.” Rey turned on her heel and made for the conference room, refusing to react when she heard a few scattered whispers from her colleagues. Finn caught her eye and winked as they passed her desk, where she paused briefly to grab her laptop and her notes. She didn’t miss the way Ben’s coldly appraising eyes roamed over her little space. She wondered what he was seeing.

 

Rey relaxed once they reached the conference room, glad to have Ben out of sight of the rest of the office. While she busied herself with her laptop, pulling up the email she’d sent just a couple of hours ago, Ben studied the plans that still lined the long wall of the room, scowling every so often. He crossed his arms again, displaying those surprising biceps to rather annoying advantage. Rey mentally rolled her eyes at herself. _Access your chill, girl._

 

He turned to face her suddenly. “I don’t have anything against bioswales. Not when they’re used appropriately.”

 

Rey didn’t have an answer to that, so she just nodded. “Ok.”

 

“But they’re objectively unattractive and Luke’s insistence on integrating them so visibly and without deference to form is…stubborn. It's childish.” Rey didn’t point out that Ben’s early morning phone call had certainly seemed more like child’s tantrum than a professional exchange between two adults. He didn’t seem to expect a reply from her anyway, since he’d already turned back to wall.  

 

It was time she took charge.

 

“Why don’t you have a seat and we can go through the questions I have? There are quite a few, but I’m hoping that if I get these answered, I won’t have to bother you with much else once the project really gets going.”

 

Ben regarded her with those intense, unreadable eyes for a couple of seconds before pulling out a chair and angling it towards her. He sat casually, one ankle crossed over the opposite knee, hands laced together in his lap.

 

Rey’s eyes were drawn to the constellation of moles scattered across his pale face—beauty marks, Aunt Bea would have called them—that she hadn’t noticed yesterday. There was one above and to the right of his wide mouth that was particularly distracting. They lent his face a sensuousness that was at odds with the broad slope of his cheeks and the masculine jut of his nose. He had an interesting face, attractive in spite of his features rather than because of them.

 

Rey cleared her throat and glanced down at her notes. “Let’s start with the amphitheater’s seating area, since you brought up the bioswales this morning. I noticed that the steppes are much wider than strictly necessary. Was it your intention to limit capacity or—“

 

“You picked up on my depressed stage design very quickly yesterday,” he broke in abruptly. Rey looked up to find him studying her with unconcealed interest. He motioned lazily toward the wall behind him without looking away from her. “The stage drawing is pretty complex. It’s basically a schematic, in fact. I included it specifically for the engineers who will be working on the project. Why does a landscape designer like yourself know how to read it?”

 

Rey pursed her lips. There was a compliment in his question somewhere, but damn if he didn’t manage to make it seem like an insult. “For the same reason that you know how to draw it, I’d assume. My degree in landscape _architecture_ required a few mechanical engineering classes. I’m sure the same was true for you.”

 

He smiled slightly. “I actually have a degree in industrial engineering as well as architecture.”

 

_Of course he does._

“That...must prove useful. Now, like I was saying about the—“

 

“It is useful, yes. It also means I can recognize a born engineer when I see one. Why did you choose landscape design instead?” He flashed her a superior little smirk. “Excuse me, landscape _architecture._  And what brought you to work for the great Luke Skywalker?”

 

Rey glared at him. _God,_ he was so damn _snotty_. “What, you want my life story?”

 

“Yes," he said simply, dark eyes unfathomable, "it seems I do.”

 

Rey blinked at him for a moment as an unwelcome heat bloomed in her belly.

 

“Well it’s…” she sputtered, “it’s not on the table. It’s not relevant to this discussion.” Rey knew she was dangerously close to a full, furious blush, so she turned her attention back to her notes and tried to focus.

 

“If you don’t want to talk about the seating, maybe you can tell me a little more about the materials you plan to use—“

 

“I’ll tell you what, Rey,” Ben said, leveling her with that infuriatingly inscrutable gaze, “I’ll reply to your frankly absurdly long email and I’ll answer every single one of your questions if you’ll come with me right now to the job site.”

 

He was toying with her, he had to be. This was some sort of power play, right? Rey tossed down her pen and leaned back in her chair. “Why? We haven’t even broken ground.”

 

Ben shrugged again. “The retention pond already exists. I wanted to take another look at it today. It’s as central to Luke’s plans as it is to mine, and I’m guessing you haven’t seen it yet. So let’s go.” He stood expectantly.

 

He was right, damn him. She hadn’t seen the proposed site yet, and _of course_ she wanted to. In fact, she’d been planning to drag Finn down to the park with her later that day.

 

She eyed him suspiciously. Rey certainly didn’t trust the man, but since she also wasn’t able to divine any nefarious ulterior motive he might have…

 

“Yeah. Yeah, ok fine.”

 

He nodded once, as if he hadn’t expected any other answer. “I’ll drive.”


	3. Genus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Rey and Ben take a drive and have some lunch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! I hope you enjoy this short but Reylo-centric chapter. The word count was getting a little unwieldy, so I split this one and the following one in two. The good news is that you can expect another update within the next three days or so!
> 
> As always, please PLEASE leave me some love in the comments! It really keeps me going!

Rey should have guessed that Ben Solo would drive a certifiably obnoxious car. The damn thing was so sleek and so shiny that she had the impression of sliding into a spacecraft, all black on black with chrome accents. Rey knew enough about cars to know that this one cost a cool quarter million. Ben put the top down and Rey glanced longingly across the parking lot at her beat up old Bronco.

Ben maneuvered through the light midmorning traffic, taking surface streets up to Ahch-To Park. Rey had always found it oddly intimate, watching a stranger drive, allowing herself to be driven, and she felt that intimacy keenly now. He drove well, too, big hands resting on the wheel with surprising grace. She noticed that he had a few of those intriguing moles scattered across his wrists and forearms.

Their route took them through Rey’s neighborhood. In fact, they passed right by Rey’s apartment. Rey shifted uncomfortably in her seat, feeling like an imposter.

Ben parked at the Botanical Gardens and glanced at her. “We can walk from here.” Rey grabbed the small leather satchel containing her camera and scrambled out of the car after him.

They skirted the perimeter of the gardens, sticking to the public area of the park, walking north toward the area that was due for expansion. They climbed a set of stone stairs crested a small rise and then there it was below them, the retention pond that had been built last year by the Atlanta Watershed.

Ahch-To Park had been suffering the effects of increasing rainwater runoff in the past decade as more and more hardscape surfaces were constructed in the area. Rain that collected on asphalt parking lots would stream directly into the lower areas of the park at too fast a rate for the ground to absorb the excess water. The result was intermittent flooding, unwanted topsoil erosion, and higher levels of groundwater pollution. The retention pond had been designed to mitigate the effects of the runoff, providing the excess water with a place to go. To Rey’s eyes it looked as though it was working quite well, though she would have expected the city to plant more wetland vegetation on the banks.

Rey walked closer to the pond to snap some pictures while Ben prowled a few yards behind her silently, hands in his pockets. The city had erected a low fence around the pond and installed signs informing park-goers to stay out of the water. Rey paused for a moment, then clamored over the barrier so that she could get a closer look at the flora around the pond.

_Better to ask forgiveness than permission._

She dropped over the other side and stumbled slightly, letting out an embarrassing squeak before she regained her balance. She heard a low chuckle behind her. She checked her footing in the soft, slightly mucky grass, and then threw a scowl over her shoulder at Ben. “Didn’t know you knew how to do that.”

“Do what?”

“Laugh,” Rey said primly, smiling when she heard Ben respond with an annoyed _hmph_. Picking her way through some reeds and grass, she saw a family of ducks a few yards away eyeing her suspiciously and she snapped their picture as well.

After a few more minutes and a dozen more pictures, Rey climbed back over the fence. (She didn’t actually _like_ breaking the rules.) She walked back to Ben, dabbing a little self-consciously at her sweaty face and neck. There was a fair amount of cloud cover, so it wasn’t scorching hot, but it was still humid as Hades.

“You’re going to have to enlarge it, aren’t you?” Rey asked.

He nodded. “Good eye. Yeah, we need at least another 1,000 square feet of water surface.”

“How will you orient the stage?” Rey asked curiously.

Ben looked down at her with those slightly melancholy, serious eyes. “How would you do it?”

Rey glanced up at the sky to get her bearings, the looked back over the pond. “It’s not my area of expertise, but I think I’d put the setting sun at its back. Face the stage east.”

Ben raised his eyebrows. “Why’s that?” He was looking at her intently, head bowed slightly toward her as though he was actually interested in what she had to say.

“I don’t know,” she said, “The amphitheatre will be used most often at night, right? I imagine the sun setting behind the stage, lighting up the water…it would be a nice effect. Really drive home the illusion that the performers are floating on the water’s surface.” Rey realized her voice had gone a little dreamy and she felt a tickle of embarrassment. Ben was watching her closely, his expression guarded. “Like I said, it’s more your area than mine.”

“No no,” Ben said quickly, “That was—I mean, you’re right. What you just described is…” he shrugged, frowning slightly. “It’s pretty much exactly what I’m hoping for.” He stared out at the pond again, lost in thought.

Eventually, they started to walk back to the car, ambling side by side in oddly companionable silence, Rey snapping a few more photos along the way.

As they neared the parking lot, Ben surprised Rey by veering toward the entrance to the gardens instead of his car.

“W-where are you going?”

Ben glanced back at her but kept walking. “I’m hungry. Come on, I know a place.”

Rey stood unmoving for a moment, wondering with detached bemusement why the prospect of sharing a meal with Ben Solo made her immediately nervous.

Sensing her hesitation, Ben turned to face her but continued walking backward. He raised his brows in challenge. “What? You don’t eat?”

As it happened, there were few things Rey liked _more_ than eating, and the smirk Ben was giving her suggested he’d somehow guessed it. With a little sigh of resignation, Rey hurried after him.

 

* * *

 

The Atlanta Botanical Gardens happened to be home to one of Ben’s favorite restaurants, a small but well-respected establishment called Genus. It was housed in a low slung, midcentury, bungalow-style building near the rock garden. He’d first stumbled upon it as a kid, when he’d wandered away from one of Leia’s boring fundraising events and gotten turned around in the darkened park. He’d been fascinated by the way that the modular floor-to-ceiling glass walls yawned open, allowing the tinkling sounds of happy diners to spill into the night.

Later, when he’d told his mother about his discovery, she’d informed him with a tense little smile it had been designed by his own grandfather. He’d known better than to bring it up again after that.

Once the cheerful hostess had seated them, Rey looked around the room with interest. She had intelligent eyes, Ben decided, and they seemed somehow older than the rest of her.

“You know,” she said thoughtfully, “the lines of these walls kind of remind me of the Greenhouse—Luke’s office, I mean. At Resistance.”

_Damn. Good eye, again._

Ben cleared his throat and scanned the menu, which had apparently been recently “reimagined” by the new eco-conscious head chef. “Happy to hear it. That was my intension when I designed it.”

“Luke’s office? That was you?”

Ben nodded but kept his eyes carefully trained on the list of entrees, unnerved by the little thrill he got from hearing the note of pleased surprise in her voice. “It was my first project, if you could even call it that. I was a sophomore in college at the time.” He paused, unsure how much Rey knew about the infamous Skywalker legacy. “My grandfather designed this building, and it’s always been one of my favorites. I suppose Luke’s office was my idea of an homage.”

“This place…it’s one of your grandfather’s?” Ben nodded again, finally flicking his eyes up at her. It was a mistake. She was giving him that speculative, tilted-head look that made him feel rather bare, and the restaurant’s natural light had set her skin aglow, and _huh, look at that_ there were flecks of green in her eyes. “That’s lovely, actually,” she said softly. “The whole homage thing.”

He rolled his eyes. “Like I said, I was young.”

She shook her head a little and turned to her own menu. “’Locally sourced, farm to table’”, she read aloud. “A slow food lunch in a botanical garden, Ben? If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were trying to win me over.”

She was teasing him. And he liked it, he realized. Quite a lot. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had bothered to tease him.

He frowned at her in mock severity. “Perish the thought, hippie.”

Once they had ordered their food—steak salad for Ben, vegetable omelet for Rey—Rey sat back in her chair and asked a little hesitantly, “Can I ask you what it is about the bioswales, specifically, that make you think they won’t work with your amphiteatre?”

Ben grimaced, loath to revisit this morning’s embarrassing outburst. The longer he spent with Rey, the more he regretted that she’d seen that snide, angry side of him. Which was odd, actually, since he hadn’t bothered to be ashamed of that side of himself in years. But she’d been a good sport all day, allowing him to drag her to the park, humoring him with lunch…he felt like he owed her this much.

“They’re cluttered.”

Rey frowned. “Cluttered?”

“Yes, cluttered. They’re filled with unruly, un-manicured, scrubby ass plants.”

“ _Hearty_ plants, you mean. Hearty, native plants that filter out pollutants in the runoff.”

“Oh come on,” Ben protested. “There will be minimal surface pollutants from any water flowing through the seating area. It’s not like it’s near any parking lots. Besides, the retention pond itself will handle surface pollutant filtration.”

“Ok, the filtration aspect might be a little redundant.” Rey conceded. “But that doesn’t change the fact that your steppes will be at high risk of flash flooding and standing water whenever it rains.”

Ben shrugged. She was right. “I’ll come up with something.”

Rey bit her lip and toyed with the stem of her water glass, swirling her fingers through the condensation there. “Would you…would you consider letting me try for a different solution? I could present you a few options, maybe?”

It wasn’t lost on him, the pluck it took for her to ask him that sort of question. They both knew she was young and untried, and he was certain Luke hadn’t given her leave to alter his plans—not that Luke was available to weigh in anyway.

But she looked so fetchingly earnest that Ben felt a foreign little squeeze in the vicinity of his heart. He also kind of wondered what that lip she was biting tasted like.

_Whoa. Down, boy._

Ben kept his face impassive. “What did you have in mind?”

“I’m not sure, but maybe…there are some species of moss that can help reduce the impact of runoff, when used correctly. If we created more streamlined little gullies, lined with rocks almost like…” Rey’s eyes lit up. “Do you know what an arroyo is?”

Ben choked a little on his water. _Did she just say--?_

But she didn’t seem to notice his reaction. “They’re dry riverbeds, common in deserts. They fill with water during rapid rainfall. We could utilize the same principle: simple, rock-lined channels that would be dry until it rained. That would solve your…” Rey rolled her eyes, “…clutter problem. But we’d also introduce a hearty strain of moss to the rocks’ surface, which would slow down water flow into the retention pond and keep your shoreline from wandering.”

“There won’t be much shade or tree cover,” Ben warned. “Could the moss handle that much direct sunlight when it’s not raining?”

Rey grinned. “Common misconception. Lots of mosses actually _thrive_ in the sun. There are these amazing desert mosses that would blow your mind with how resilient they are.”

He couldn’t help but stare at her a little, fascinated by the enthusiasm in her dancing eyes. It had been a long time since he'd let himself feel that kind of pure excitement, taken such joy in his work.”

She must have mistaken his look for one of incredulity, because her eyes dimmed ever so slightly and she let out a self-deprecating little laugh. “Fine, maybe you wouldn’t get as excited about moss as I do. But as plants go, they’re lower profile than the ones Luke originally had in mind.”

She was right, of course. And he could see it in his mind, the shape of the drainage channels he would design, and Rey’s rocks, angular and spare, yet covered with a lush carpet of green. He knew immediately that it would work.

He nodded slowly. “Alright, Rey. Draw it up, and I’ll take a look.”

Her answering smile thrilled him more than it should.


	4. Groundbreaking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we meet Maz and Snoke, learn more about the Skywalker dramz, and break new ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What up, fam! I had a lot of fun writing this one, and I hope you have a lot of fun reading it. Your comments are encouraged, welcomed, DEMANDED.
> 
> ...no seriously I love comments, keep them coming.

_One Week Later_

 

“Rey, my dear girl! How lovely to see you! It’s been an absolute _age_!”

 

Rey laughed and wiped the sweat from her forehead with the bandana tied around her wrist.

 

“I can hear you, Maz, but I can’t see you…”

 

“Down here, dear!” Rey scanned the gravel-covered floor until her eyes fell on a tiny woman crouched under a massive table of orchids. She was almost invisible amid a tangle of black tubing.

 

Rey laughed. “What are up to down there, Maz?”

 

“Oh, just a little routine maintenance. This damn soaker hose keeps leaking.”

 

Rey stooped down and began to help her de-knot the mess. “I thought that was the point of a soaker hose.”

 

Maz grinned. “It’s leaking at the _joint_ , you little smartass.”

 

Rey held the ends of the hose as Maz wound white plumbers tape around the threads, recoupled the line with strong, gnarled hands.

 

“Be a peach and go turn on the spigot, would you?” Rey hustled over to the bank of metal water spigots by the wall of the greenhouse. They seemed to sprout from the ground on stalks made of metal pipe, and each had a complicated timer attached. There were more than a dozen.

 

“Uh…Maz…?”

 

“Third from the right!”

 

“Got it!”

 

Rey twisted the tap and heard a grunt of satisfaction a few seconds later. Maz crawled out from under the table and dusted her hands off on her green cargo pants. “Well now! Thank you for coming, young lady. We have much to discuss, I think.”

 

The Kanata Nursery was the finest source for live goods in the Southeast and Maz Kanata, proprietress and horticulturalist, was a living legend in Rey’s line of work. She was so knowledgeable that Luke required all of his interns to spend two weeks under her tutelage before they were even assigned a desk in the Resistance office. It amounted to two weeks of sweat and shovels, sunburn and splinters, and Rey had loved every second of it.

 

Maz led Rey out of the greenhouse area, through the tree nursery, and into the enormous renovated barn that served as both Maz’s office and home. Customers always found it incredibly charming that Maz’s office and waiting room were formed from modified horse stalls.  

 

Rey turned toward the office when Maz stopped her. “Why don’t we take this meeting upstairs? I need to rest these weary old legs.”

 

Rey followed Maz up the narrow staircase that led to the barn’s loft, feeling a bit…well, _honored_ , really. She’d never seen Maz’s apartment. And, _oh_ , was it a surprise.

 

While the ground floor had been cleverly modernized to be functional while still clearly resembling the barn that it once was, the loft was a different story entirely. The dark wooden floors and cross beams were painted a soft dove white and a huge oblong window took up nearly one entire side of the barn’s angled roof. Opposite the window, the entire wall was fitted floating shelves filled with potted plants, books, and knickknacks that Rey would love to spend an hour perusing.

 

The narrow end nearest the stairs housed a small but gleaming kitchen where Maz was busying herself pouring two tall glasses of sweet tea. Further down, there was a partitioned area with sliding stall doors that likely served as Maz’s bedroom.

 

Maz nudged her with a sharp elbow. “Come on, you’ll like this.”

 

She led Rey down to the far wall of the loft to a pair of French doors inlaid with a stained glass design that looked somehow both vintage and modern. Maz jerked her chin at the doorknobs and Rey pulled them open to find a cunning miniature veranda that was shaded by the limbs of a nearby live oak. Maz handed her a glass and nodded to one of two rocking chairs.

 

Once they’d both settled themselves, Maz fixed her with a penetrating look. “Now, tell me about this big fancy project.”

 

Rey shifted in her seat, unsure where to begin. “Well, it’s gonna be big. Most of the shrubs and trees will be pretty standard, but Luke’s plans call for a pretty significant amount of more specialty-type plants. We’re probably still six months out from actually planting those, but I wanted to give you a heads up so you can start cultivating anything you might not already--.”

 

“Yes, yes, I got your email.” Maz said impatiently. “Very detailed. I also got an email from Luke telling me that he would be in Barcelona for a while, and that I should give you any…how did he put it…’ _guidance_ that our young friend might seek’.” Maz rolled her eyes. “Luke always did have a flair for dramatic bullshit.”

 

Rey could only stare. Luke had emailed Maz? When exactly _did_ he plan on coming back? And why was his absence starting to feel more and more like a damn _test_?

 

“Well…I guess thanks in advance. It’s nice to know I can...” Rey flapped her hand stupidly, “…reach out to you.”

 

Maz barked a surprisingly loud laugh and patted her hand. “Oh honey, you know you don’t need Luke’s blessing to come to me for anything. What I want to know is why has he’s gone and saddled you with executing his plans?”

 

_Ah. So Luke didn’t tell her everything._

 

Rey knew that Maz was a very old friend of the Skywalkers, which made her a little leery of referencing old family drama in which she had no part. She didn’t want to offend Maz by presuming to know more than she did, after all. Then again, Maz might be her best chance at gaining a little insight into whatever history was between Ben and Luke. Rey let her head fall back to rest of the top of the chair and stared up through the branches of the live oak.

 

 _Quercus virginiana_ , she noted absently.

 

 _Luke left. He bailed without explaining why. And he told Maz to_ guide _me, whatever that means._

To hell with walking on eggshells, Rey decided.

 

She turned back to her hostess. “If I had to guess, I’d say it has something to do with the fact that Ben Solo is the amphitheatre’s architect, and that Luke somehow convinced the Mayor to make it an unspoken condition of First Order’s contract that they use Resistance Designs as the ‘scapers for the project. Specifically, that they use Luke’s design.”

 

Maz’s eyes widened.

 

Rey fidgeted with her glass. “Yeah. I think that about sum up the situation.”

 

Maz shook her head. “Oh, Luke,” she murmured.

 

“Maz…what happened between Ben and Luke?” Rey blurted.  “I’m not asking for the family secrets or anything, but I want this project to be a success. And I can’t do my job if I’m perpetually one wrong step away from setting off a Skywalker landmine. I’ve met with Ben twice and both times I felt like I was missing a shipping container’s worth of subtext.”

 

Maz took a deep breath and drained her glass. “I’ll tell you what I can, dear one. But this conversation calls for something stronger than sweet tea.”

 

* * *

 

 

The setting sun was painting faraway clouds in a palette of purples and pinks as Maz began her story. She swirled her whiskey thoughtfully, then took a fortifying sip.

 

“As I said, I can only tell you what I know. But I suppose this story really begins with Anakin.”

 

Rey leaned forward. “Did you know him?”

 

“Anakin? Oh yes, I knew him.” Maz shook her head sadly. “A rare talent, Anakin Skywalker. I met him through Padme, of course, but he was already a legend, even then.”

 

“Padme?” Rey asked quietly.

 

Maz smiled, a far off look in her eyes. “Luke and Leia’s mother. She was a kind, beautiful woman. Came from old southern money. Her family didn’t approve of the match, but she would have no other. I was a guest at their wedding—one of a very few. It was such a scandal that they held the ceremony in near-secret. Her family refused to come.”

 

“That’s horrible,” Rey muttered. It was impossible for her to fathom having a living family who would _choose_ not to be a part of their daughter’s wedding. What utter wastefulness.

 

“I agree. And what’s worse, their disapproval cast a pall over the entire marriage. Their love was tainted by shame. Unfairly so, but…well, there it is.”

 

Rey sipped at her whiskey, feeling as though she’d fallen into the pages of some Southern Gothic novel. Or, like, The Notebook. “How did Padme die?”

 

Maz looked surprised. “I sometimes forget you’re not from here. If you were, you’d know this part, at least. Everyone does.” Maz sighed sadly. “Padme died giving birth to Luke and Leia. And that’s when everything went to hell.” She said it as though it Padme’s death had been a tragic inevitability, something written in the stars. Predestined. Mythic.

 

“Anakin had always had a passionate nature. Nothing wrong with that, on its own. The capacity for powerful feeling is nothing to be ashamed of.” Maz looked up at Rey sharply. “Remember that, Rey. Don’t let…well, don’t let anyone convince you otherwise.” Rey nodded, a little bewildered at Maz’s shift in tone. The old woman took another long sip of whiskey.

 

“Anyway, Anakin had always been passionate, yes, but it was Padme’s death that sent him down a darker path. He became deeply ambitious, determined to become the best architect of his time, to be famous. He also became paranoid, antisocial, and…well, _mean_ , for lack of a better word. After her death, Padme’s family tried to establish a relationship with him for the sake of the children, but he refused to let them anywhere near the twins.”

 

A petty part of Rey could understand that.

 

“Luke and Leia must have had a lonely childhood. Anakin wouldn’t allow the twins to see Padme’s family, but neither did he nurture them himself. He was too focused on becoming the most important architect in the world.”

 

Maz refilled her glass, and added another finger to Rey’s without asking.

 

“Padme’s inheritance was enormous, and it all fell to Anakin when she died. He built that big hulking mansion in Druid Hills. Mustafar, he called it, God knows why. And he set up the _first_ First Order Partners. And the rest is history.”

 

“Right,” Rey murmured. Even she knew that the Anakin Skywalker had been incredibly prolific and wildly successful during the 1960’s. By the time he died, there were three First Order firms in the United States, one in London and another in Paris.

 

“He died of a heart attack when the twins were ten, a cold man who never spoke to his own children but to criticize. Luke and Leia spent the rest of their childhood bouncing between rich Amidala relatives, some good people, some less so.”

 

Rey rubbed at her forehead in frustration. This story…it wasn’t enough. “So you’re telling me that the whole sad, tragic Skywalker story boils down to Luke and Leia having a dead mother and an asshole for a father? Oh, wait, excuse me. A _wealthy_ dead mother and an asshole for a father.”

 

Rey knew she sounded horrible, but she didn’t care. She understood better than anyone that life was a bitch, and she was finding it difficult to wring her hands for the poor little rich kids Luke and Leia had been. Hell, her own parents were dead and they’d _both_ been assholes, and no one spoke in hushed, reverent tones about _her_ fucking childhood.

 

Thankfully, Maz didn’t seem to take any offense. In fact, she was looking at Rey with far too much understanding in her big eyes. Rey studied her whiskey glass and tried not to squirm. “Sorry,” she muttered. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

 

Maz just reached over to squeeze her hand for a few seconds before continuing as if she’d said nothing.

 

“Luke and Leia rebelled against their father’s legacy in their own ways. Leia became determined to give away as much of the Amidala-Skywalker fortune as she could.” Maz laughed softly. “She also went and fell in love with Han, who could not be _less_ like her father. And Luke, who has so much of his father’s talent, chose earth as his medium instead of steel and glass.” Maz chuckled, “Anakin would have hated that.”

 

“If they were both so hell-bent on being what Anakin _wasn’t_ , then how in the hell _Leia’s own son_ end up an architect? Why did they allow it?”

 

Maz shook her head as though Rey had missed the point entirely. “Because Leia would never have discouraged any talent Ben had, and she wouldn’t have feared his inheriting Anakin’s gift for design. She would have feared his inheriting Anakin’s--“

 

“Passion.” Rey finished.

 

Maz nodded. “His temper, his ambition, yes. Those things that eventually became nothing more or less than overwhelming selfishness.”

 

They sat for a while in silence, lost in their own thoughts, watching the sky darken to a rich navy blue. Finally, Rey said, “As family sagas go, Maz, that one is a doozy. But it doesn’t explain why Luke strong armed his way onto Ben’s project and then left town. And it doesn’t give me any insight into how to handle Ben Solo.”

 

Maz grinned. “Oh, Rey. You’re young, but surely you’ve learned by now that all men are stupid. And Luke is no exception, God love him. I doubt he had any grand plan when he set this ball rolling. As for Ben Solo,” Maz flapped a hand dismissively, “that boy is _begging_ for a reason to be charming instead of broody. Trying giving him one. He may have his grandfather’s temperament, but he’s also half Han, and Lord knows that scoundrel was an inveterate flirt back in the day.” Rey’s face must have shown her shock, because Maz’s smile widened even further. “Besides, from what I hear, Ben’s turned into quite the looker. He must have finally grown into those ears.” The old woman waggled her eyes suggestively.

 

“Wha--Maz!” Rey sputtered. “So your sage advice is to flirt with my boss?”

 

Maz peered at her closely for a moment before declaring with a knowing smirk, “I’d wager my next crop of American Beauties that you already have.”

 

* * *

 

 

Rey contemplated everything Maz had told her during the (very careful, because whiskey) hour-long drive back into the city. It was clear that everyone, Ben included, believed he took after his grandfather, both in talent and character. It made Rey wonder when his family had decided he resembled the man they all hated so much. Six years old? Ten? Thirteen? To be compared to Anakin, the family’s Big Bad, for most of his life…

 

Rey knew about being pigeon holed, about the labels the world could force on you before you yourself even knew who you were. Labels like, say, Trailer Trash. Desert Rat. Foster Child. Orphan.

 

She found she had a great deal of unexpected sympathy for Ben Solo.

 

Just as she entered her apartment, her phone pinged a text message from an unfamiliar number.

 

**_Groundbreaking tomorrow. I expect you to attend?_ **

 

To her annoyance, Rey’s stomach gave a girlish little flutter when she realized it must be from Ben. But she couldn’t help a reluctant smile as she read the words for a second time. Fucking Solo. Leave it to that arrogant arse to pose a demand as a question. She typed out a reply and sent it before she could reconsider.

 

**_Wouldn’t miss it._ **

**_*middle finger emoji*_ **

Across town, Ben Solo’s phone lit up, and he smiled.

 

* * *

 

 

The groundbreaking, it turned out, was a lot less exciting than Rey expected. It was mostly a photo op with hardhats. The Mayor was there, of course, and a handful of Councilmen and women. Ben and some other posh looking representatives from First Order Partners were there too, all dressed in impeccable, expensive suits. Rey feared she would be the only person from Resistance Designs in the photos, but was surprised and relieved to make the acquaintance of Luke’s erstwhile silent partner, Lando Calrissian, when she arrived at the site. He was a rather dashing looking older man who managed to make Rey blush when bent over her hand and kissed it like some Disney prince.

 

After the requisite photos were taken, Rey walked over to the reception in search of Finn, who she’d brought along for moral support. She found him, predictably, by the food.

 

“Omahgahrey. Yugoddatrithees.” Rey laughed as he shoved two plates overflowing with canapés into her hands and trotted over to the bar to get them both beers. Rey spotted an unclaimed cocktail table nearby and made her way unsteadily toward it, endeavoring not to drop the plates in her hands or the purse and hardhat tucked under each elbow. Just as she felt the hardhat start to slip from under her arm, it and her purse were gently tugged away by someone behind her. Rey laughed in relief and set the plates down on the table before turning around.

 

“Tha—oh! Hi!”

 

“Hello.”

 

Ben Solo stood holding her things, looking like a damn Rolex ad in his beautifully cut light grey suit. He’d forgone a tie, and his blindingly white shirt collar was open. Rey’s eyes fell to the exposed hollow of his neck, and she wondered briefly how such a little patch of skin could be so...compelling. 

 

Ben leaned over to place her stuff on the table and Rey caught the faintest whiff of a truly _delicious_ smelling cologne as his arm brushed hers.

 

His eyes flickered over the two heaping plates as he straightened. Rey bristled. “No, those _aren’t_ both mine.”

 

His mouth twitched at one corner. “I didn’t say anything.”

 

Rey wrinkled her nose at him. “You were thinking it. I’m getting better at reading your face.”

 

“Damn. There goes my aura of brooding mystery. I’m nothing without it.”

 

Rey’s mouth fell open and a choked laugh of surprise came out. “My god, Ben. Was that—did you just make a joke?”

 

He leaned in a little, bending his head near her ear. “It’s been known to happen on occasion,” he murmured conspiratorially. The low timber of his voice set off a little swoopy feeling in her belly, and when she looked up at him, he was close enough to see how the setting sun caught the gold in his dark eyes and threw his long lashes into relief against his cheeks.

 

 _Give him a reason to be charming,_ Maz had said. It no longer seemed like great advice. If her current reaction was any indication, Rey wasn’t entirely certain she’d _survive_ Ben Solo at _full_ charm.

 

“I got you one of those disgusting sour beers you like so much, Peanut.” Rey blinked and reluctantly tore her eyes away from Ben’s. Where had Finn come from?

 

“Oh, uh…thanks.” Rey took her beer from Finn, not missing the way he was looking back and forth between her and Ben with naked interest.

 

“Finn, this is Ben Solo. Ben, this is Finn. He works at Resistance as well.”

 

The change in Ben was immediate. Rey watched as his face shuttered and he once again cloaked himself in haughty reserve. Finn, bless him, either didn’t notice Ben’s cold regard or he didn’t care.

 

“Hi man, pleasure to meet you.” Finn stuck out his hand, which Ben stared at for a beat too long before clasping briefly.

 

He turned back to Rey. “I believe we have an appointment here at the site on Wednesday morning. I’ll see you then.”

 

And before Rey could blink, Ben was gone, striding toward a cluster of First Order bigwigs. As her eyes roamed over the group, Rey was startled to see that one of them was looking directly at her. He was tall, taller than Ben even, and very lean with a cruel face. His suit was as perfectly tailored as his colleagues’ were, but Rey noticed with fascination that he was wearing a silk ascot at his neck. _People still wear those?_

 

The tall man continued staring at her, unabashed, until Ben drew near. Then he reached out to clasp Ben’s shoulder and draw him into the circle of Important Men.

 

“Fun guy, that Ben Solo,” Finn muttered from beside her.

 

Rey frowned and turned back to him. “Don’t take it personally. I think he would have given anyone who works for Luke the same chilly reception.”

 

Finn gave her a pitying look. “Oh, Rey, you sweet summer child. Ben Solo couldn’t give a fuck who I work for. Looked more to me like he was jealous.”

 

“Pffft. He _tolerates_ me, Finn. He has to.”

 

Finn rolled his eyes heavenward. “He thought I was your boyfriend, dummy. And he wasn’t a fan. I’m telling you, Mr. Moody McMeany has a crush on you.”

 

Rey glared at him. “Keep your voice down, you middle schooler.” Rey shot one more glance at Ben, feeling a little forlorn all of a sudden. She had a feeling that the tiny sprout of understanding they’d been cultivating had just been squashed somehow. She sighed. “I’m done socializing for the day. Maybe the month, actually. Let’s get out of here.”

 

* * *

 

 

Ben watched Rey leave the reception, date in tow, and decided that it had been a rather revelatory afternoon for him. Specifically, it was now painfully clear to him that what he had thought was a fleeting fascination with Luke’s plucky protégé was in fact something far more inconvenient.

 

“Are we boring you, Young Solo?” a voice murmured quietly in his ear. Ben glanced apologetically at Snoke, First Order Partners’ board chairman, who had flown in from the New York office to attend the groundbreaking. His arrival was an unprecedented mark of favor, given how little Snoke traveled anymore. The tall man discreetly angled himself away from the other First Order VPs so that he and Ben could speak alone.

 

“Of course not, sir.”

 

Snoke smiled knowingly and nodded towards Rey’s retreating form. “Skywalker’s young apprentice, I assume?”

 

Ben nodded uneasily. “Rey Niima.”

 

Snoke frowned. “She is quite young.”

 

“Yes. But she is talented. Probably much more so than she realizes.”

 

Snoke tsked his tongue. “That is a shame. Luke will undoubtedly squander her skills.”

 

Ben nodded, eyes still on Rey. He knew better than anyone just how much his uncle feared those as naturally gifted as she was. Luke would never fully embrace any talent that he considered greater than his own. He realized Snoke was watching him through narrowed eyes and Ben lifted his chin slightly to indicate that he was unbothered by the scrutiny. Snoke respected confidence.

 

“Talented or not, she is Luke’s creature. Her loyalty lies with him. Do not succumb to any…” Snoke lip curled in distaste, “… _charms_ that she might possess.”

 

God, was he so transparent? Ben clenched his jaw tightly against a mortified blush and managed to nod once. Snoke regarded him closely for a few more seconds and then seemed to take pity on him. He reached out to clasp his upper arm.

 

“You’ve done very well, Ben. Your grandfather would have been proud that you have taken up your family’s legacy at the firm he founded.” Snoke shook his head sadly. “Neither your mother nor your uncle have ever given their lineage the respect it deserves. But you, Ben…you will right their wrongs.”

 

Ben swallowed tightly and felt the prickle of cold sweat collecting at his hairline. He was suddenly desperate to be away from this place. He barely managed to wait until Snoke turned back to his cronies before he bolted for his car.

 

He needed a long, fast drive. He needed to get away from this park, from this _city_ and its goddamn ghosts. His gripped the wheel tightly to stop the shaking in his hands while he maneuvered the car to the highway, then felt some of the tightness in his chest ease once he made it to I-75 and hit the gas. He headed north, feeling better with each mile that fell away under his tires. Even so, it wasn’t until he had passed through the suburbs and into the foothills that he could breathe deeply.

 

 _Damn_ Snoke and his shrewd eye.

 

He’d purposefully avoided Rey during groundbreaking ceremony, not wanting to draw attention to her or to the…unpredictable effect she seemed to have on him. Keeping his eyes away from her had been harder, but he’d managed it. It wasn’t until the reception that he’d allowed himself to look in her direction. She looked…beautiful. _Stunning_ , actually. She wore a snug, sleeveless black dress that fell to mid-calf. It should have been plain, but with her hair up in that high bun that she favored, she looked rather regal. Her only adornment was a pair of gold and pearl earrings that fell just to her jawline. He watched her as she juggled two indecently full plates of food and wondered if Luke wasn’t paying her enough to fucking _feed_ herself for God’s sake because why else would she be so hungry? And then he was wondering if maybe _he_ should feed her, take her to dinner after this inane reception was over…

 

And then suddenly Rey was wobbling and he was stepping forward to help her and she was spinning around to face him and _whoooosh_ went his breath like he’d been socked in the stomach when her eyes lit up and she said “Hi!” and gave him that flashbulb smile like she was actually happy to see him.

 

And Snoke must have seen. And he’d guessed the truth. That he, Ben Solo, had a full-blown fucking _thing_ for Rey Niima.

 

Ben smacked his hand against his steering wheel with enough force to shake the console.

 

 _She’s Luke’s creature,_ Snoke had said. And hell, even if she wasn’t, she’d been there tonight with a guy who called her _peanut_.

 

So. Whatever that meant.

 

It was hours later when Ben pulled over for gas in some tiny north Georgia town, but his mind was blessedly calm. The project, _his_ project, was all that mattered. Everything (every _one_ ) else was a distraction. He would just have to remind himself of that every hour, every _minute_ , if he had to, until the job was done.


	5. Poe's Boyfriend's Best Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ben is an ass, Poe does some facilitating, and Rey recognizes some uncomfortable truths.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merp. For whatever reason, this chapter was harder to write. I hope you guys like it anyway! And just so you know, each and every one of your comments really keeps me going. I absolutely love hearing from you guys!

Ben woke with a start, skin clammy and heart racing. His bedside lamp was still on and he was on top of the bedcovers…he’d fallen asleep while reading. He pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes, hard, then reached for his phone to check the time.

 

2:45AM. _Fantastic_.

 

He considered flipping off the lamp and trying to go back to sleep, but he was too keyed up. Besides, it was The Dream that had woken him. He wanted to draw.

 

He stood and grabbed a pair of sweats from a chair in the corner of his bedroom and tugged them on. He stumped downstairs to the kitchen and started a pot of coffee, then stood frowning to himself as he waited for it to brew.

 

The Dream had been different tonight. In it, he’d stood looking out over that same dry riverbed at sundown, and he’d felt the same mixture of awe and foreboding. But when he’d turned to look at Luke…there’d been no Luke. Instead, that unnamed person he was always trying to glimpse was standing there in the distance, too far away for him to make out, but watching him nonetheless. And then a terrifying roaring sound had begun to swirl around him, growing in intensity until it seemed to be coming from inside his chest. Just as it reached a horrifying crescendo, he’d woken up. 

 

 _Peculiar_.

 

Coffee brewed, Ben took his mug into the big back room of his house that served as his studio. The big picture windows were dark, the yard beyond in shadow. When he flipped on the lights, the windows became mirrors, reflecting his disheveled, half-dressed visage back at him. He really should get some sleep. He had to meet with Dameron first thing in the morning, and then he had his appointment with Rey at ten. He was going to look and feel like hell.

 

But Ben knew there was nothing for it. He wouldn’t get any more sleep tonight. So he sat down at his drafting table and began to draw.

 

* * *

 

 

“Ugh, hardhats are sexist, that’s all there is to it,” Rey grumbled as she stood next to the open door of her Bronco, pulling pins out of her hair. She’d put it up in her usual bun this morning, realizing too late that it would never fit under the mandatory fiberglass protective wear. She unwound her hair and shook it out before pulling it all around in front of one shoulder and weaving it into a quick and messy low braid. She dug around her satchel with one hand and sent a quick word of thanks to the gods when she found a thin black hair tie. Shoving the hardhat down on her head, she looked around a little guiltily to make sure no one was near before she checked her reflection in her rearview mirror. She looked…like she was wearing a hardhat.

 

 _Well,_ she said to herself, _what did you expect? To be the first person in history to look_ good _in in one of these things?_

 

She’d parked in the makeshift parking lot that had been designated for the project, and retraced the steps that she and Ben had taken barely two weeks before. But when she crested the same hill, the view couldn’t have been more different. Their little corner of the park was buzzing with activity. The area had been cordoned off completely, and there were now a couple of doublewide trailers that had been brought in to serve as temporary offices for foremen and the like. Two large bulldozers were already at work tearing up ground, reshaping the area that would eventually become seating for concertgoers. And further in the distance, at the far end of the retention pond, a backhoe was digging a few feet away from the shoreline. It looked to Rey as though it was marking a new perimeter; Rey assumed this was part of the enlargement process that Ben had mentioned. 

 

It was largest worksite Rey had ever been a part of by a factor of ten. It hit her, again, just how big this project was. Just how unqualified she was to run it.

 

_Where the hell are you, Luke? I can’t do this alone._

 

“Rey!” She could just make out someone shouting her name over the roar of the earth movers.

 

Rey turned to see a man emerging from one of the doublewide trailers, waiving at her broadly. She smiled, recognizing Poe Dameron even from a distance. It was hard not to, with those curls and that grin. She waived back as he jogged towards her.

 

He wrapped her in a brief hug. “Come to check on our performance? Worried I’ll screw something up on the first day of construction?”

 

Poe was Luke’s go-to general contractor, and he’d been engaged build the seating area and pavilion. First Order Partners had hired another, more specialized crew to build the actual stage.

 

Rey punched him in the arm. “Of course not. Did you get the revised plans for the drainage canals? It’s a bit of a change from what Luke had originally planned…”

 

“Oh I got them. Just sat down with Solo himself to go over them.” Poe jerked his thumb over his shoulder toward the trailer. “That guy hasn’t changed since he was a kid. Always so intense.”

 

“Wait, you know him?”

 

“Oh yeah. His dad gave me my first job the summer I turned eighteen. He used to tag along with Han to the job sites.”

 

It was starting to feel like the whole city had history with the Skywalker family.

 

“Anyway, are we still on for bar trivia tomorrow night? You know Finn and I are terrible without you there.”

 

Rey laughed and nodded. Poe and Finn had met through work a year ago and had been inseparable ever since. “I should be able to make it, yeah.”

 

Rey waived goodbye as Poe rushed off toward a cluster of workers, plans in hand. Then she turned and made her way toward the trailer.

 

The air conditioning hit her in the face like an icy blast when she opened the door, and it took her eyes a moment to adjust from the blinding summer glare outside. She pulled off her hardhat and stood blinking in the doorway, trying to get her bearings, when she heard someone clear their throat behind her.

 

Ben stood leaning over a folding table that served as a makeshift desk, pencil tucked behind one ear, looking at her expectantly.

 

“Nice place you got here,” Rey quipped.

 

Ben remained expressionless. “Yeah, well, I won’t be here often after this week. At least not until they really start on the stage.”

 

Rey nodded, knowing that the lion’s share of Ben’s work was already done. Architects designed, they didn’t construct. Rey suspected Ben had a hands-on nature, but by and large the contractors would be running the show for the rest of the project.

 

It was slightly different for her. Landscape designs were never hard and fast, and little adjustments would likely be necessary along the way. She would be working a lot more closely with Poe once the initial digging phase was completed and planting began.

 

Ben straightened and stretched a little, turning his neck side to side as if to relieve some tension. He was too tall, Rey thought absently, to stoop over a desk all the time. Even drafting tables weren’t really designed for someone with Ben’s proportions. He looked tired too, with purplish circles under his eyes and what looked like a five o’clock shadow darkening his jaw.

 

“Anyway,” he said, sighing, “I just wanted to nail down some scheduling. I’ve got our official Gantt chart right here,” he gestured at the massive length of paper that he’d laid out. “You should make sure this will all work for you. I assume you’re using Kanata nurseries for everything?” Rey nodded. “That’s good,” he said a little grudgingly. “Maz is the best.”

 

They spent the next hour and a half going over the Gantt in painstaking detail, making a few adjustments on completion dates. Once they were finished, Rey was glad to have gone through the trouble. She understood far more about the logistics of the project than she had before.

 

She watched as Ben picked up the long, banner-like chart, holding one corner in each outstretched hand. It was nearly the exact same size as his wingspan, and when he turned to a massive corkboard on the wall of the trailer to tack it up, the long lines of his arms and shoulders and back reminded Rey of the Vitruvian Man. Except the Vitruvian Man was naked, of course.

 

And now she was picturing Ben naked. Specifically, she was picturing what his ass looked like beneath those just-snug-enough jeans.

 

_Whoa there, thirsty girl._

 

Ben turned back around and Rey shook herself. It probably wouldn’t be great if Ben caught her ogling his ass.

 

“I assume you’ve been told about the mayor’s Fourth of July party?” Ben asked.

 

Rey winced inwardly. Apparently, the mayor was _quite_ excited about the new addition to the park, and was using his annual black tie Independence Day party to fete its designer; Ben had been named the guest of honor. The thought of attending a formal event made Rey’s skin crawl. Fancy events always served to remind her that she had little in the way of graceful manners or charming small talk.

 

“Oh, uh, yeah. Jessika mentioned something about an invite. I didn’t think I was really expected to go…”

 

Ben crossed his arms and leaned his hip against a short filing cabinet. “Why would you think that? The mayor wants everyone from the project to be there.”

 

“I don’t know. I’m not…important. I’m no one.”

 

Ben frowned and shook his head. “You’re my landscaper. You’re plenty important. Besides, the mayor will want someone there to talk about the sustainable design angle.”

 

“ _Luke_ is your landscaper,” Rey reminded him. “And I’m sure you’re more than qualified to talk about the sustainability aspect, if pressed.”

 

Ben’s eyes narrowed. “I’m not _asking_ you, Rey. I’m _telling_ you that you should be there.” Rey’s stomach sank like a leaden ball of dread, not liking the direction this conversation was going. Ben was now wearing that same coldly inscrutable expression as the day they’d met, and she _hated_ him for it. She tried to swallow her rising panic for a moment. After all, she knew he could be reasonable…likeable, even, when he wanted to be.

 

“You can’t force me to go to a stupid party, Ben.” Rey said, her voice coming out higher than usual. “I don’t—“

 

“You don’t what? Work for me? Answer to me? Yes, I assure you, you do.”

 

Rey was struck speechless for a moment. How had this meeting suddenly gone so horribly awry? “Do you _hear_ yourself? Jesus, Ben, you might employ me, but you don’t _own_ me.”

 

Ben let out an exasperated sigh and looked at the ceiling. He muttered something that sounded suspiciously like “don’t I know it” before leveling her with an imperious glare.

 

“This is a big project, Rey. With a lot of visibility. _Stupid parties_ are part of the job. I shouldn’t need to reassure you every time your nonsensical little inferiority complex rears its bashful head.”

 

Rey was on her feet in an instant, face flushing with anger and embarrassment. “Fuck you, Solo,” she spat before grabbing her hardhat and slamming her way out the door.

 

She stumbled away from the trailer and headed immediately towards her car, grateful that she managed to hold back her tears until she was at least a dozen yards away from that—that— _bastard._ She wiped at her face furiously, hoping no one was watching her too closely as she crossed the jobsite.

 

 _Inferiority complex._ Fuck, he couldn’t have cut her more deeply if he’d tried. She was wheezing a little as she walked now, her throat growing ever tighter as the emotional dike she’d carefully built around her insecurities broke and she was just _flooded_ with that old, nasty conviction that really she belonged in a trailer park in Goodsprings, that she was an imposter living the life of someone who was more _worthy_. That she’d reached too high, thought too well of herself.

 

And even more horrible than the rush of self-loathing that threatened to sweep her away was the knowledge that _Ben had seen right through it all_. He knew how she _really_ saw herself. And he pitied her for it.

 

She made it to her car and climbed inside, resting her head against her steering wheel for a moment to collect herself. She breathed deeply, and waited until the urge to cry had passed.

 

 _Fuck this day,_ she thought, turning her key in the ignition. _I’m going home._

* * *

 

 

_Nicely handled, asshole._

 

Ben looked around the trailer for something to throw. Coming up empty handed, he ripped the pencil from behind his ear and hurled it against the wall. It made a comical little _tink_ noise and fell to the carpet.

 

Why, _why_ had he let things go so nuclear?

 

 _I’m not important_ , she’d said. God, it made him want to pull his own hair out, the way she shit on herself. Who had convinced her she was _no one_? Was it Luke? Was it that Finn guy? And then he’d gone and _ordered_ her to attend the fucking party, like a complete ass. If he’d been trying to convince her that she belonged at the event, _demanding_ that she be there probably hadn’t been the way to go about doing it.

 

Ben was still glaring at the wall, contemplating putting his fist through it, when the door to the trailer swung open again and Poe Dameron stormed through with murder in his eyes.

 

“I just saw Rey run out of here like a bat out of hell. It looked like she was _crying_! I swear to fucking god, Solo, if you’ve hurt her in any way, I will fucking _end you._ ”

 

 _Oh goody. Someone to fight,_ Ben thought with grim satisfaction and the beast inside of him smiled. He made it across the room in three long strides, crowding Dameron’s space.

 

“You’ll _what?_ I don’t think I heard you correctly, Dameron.”

 

Poe didn’t flinch. In fact, his mouth twisted into a sneer of disdain. Ben’s anger ratcheted up another level and he clenched his fists by his sides. He’d always hated this cocksure asshole.

 

Dameron spoke with deadly calm. “That girl is very dear to me. And she’s my boyfriend’s best friend. And _you_ have been due for a beating for _years_ now, buddy.”

 

“Is that right? And you’re the guy for the job, I take it?”

 

They regarded each other furiously for a few moments, and then suddenly Poe’s glare fell away and he was looking at Ben almost thoughtfully. “You’re pretty keyed up, even for you, Solo. She get under your skin?”

  
Ben sputtered, thrown by the sudden shift in the atmosphere of the trailer. “I don’t—I’m not—“

 

Poe sighed, his posture relaxing. “Yeah, Finn suspected as much. Rey has a way of doing that. She’s special that way.” Poe gave Ben a crooked smile and slapped him on the shoulder. “Listen, man, just say you’re sorry. You’ll feel a lot better. And I won’t have to kick your ass. _Ugh,_ Finn is going to be in _sufferable_ when he hears he was right.”

 

Ben watched, stunned, as Poe turned to go. He was almost out the door before he found his voice.

 

“Dameron, wait.”

 

Poe turned back, brow quirked. _God_ he had a face Ben wanted to punch.

 

“Finn is your…”

 

Poe looked had the stones to look smug. “Boyfriend, yeah. Rey is single, dumbass.”

 

Ben clenched his jaw. What he needed to say next was going to take fortitude.

 

“Dameron…” he ground out.

 

“Yeeeees?” Poe asked sweetly, grinning now.

 

“I need a favor.”

 

* * *

 

 

Half an hour later, Ben navigated his car down a narrow street in the Virginia Highlands. It was an older neighborhood, full of pretty, old houses and old school brick apartment buildings, the sort with only ten or so units. He pulled to a stop just outside just such a building, built in the early 20’s, Ben guessed. It was cute, and it fit Rey. He just prayed she was home.

 

It had taken Ben ten minutes to extract Rey’s address from Dameron. Once he’d sworn, for the fifth time, that all he wanted was to apologize to her face and that he wouldn’t force her to see him, the arrogant dick had relented with another of his infuriating smiles.

 

“She’s really done a number on you, hasn’t she Solo?”

 

Ben hadn’t answered, but he’d known Poe was right. God in heaven, was he really about to knock on her door and _apologize_ for something he’d _said_?

 

He was disconcerted to realize that not only was he going to apologize to Rey, he was _dying_ to do it. From the moment she’d left that trailer, he’d wanted to call her back and explain himself. To tell her that her talent was important, that the overwhelming self-doubt he sometimes saw in her eyes had no place there, that she belonged at that damn party, at _any_ party.

 

And that she belonged there with him.

 

_Jesus, Ben. Try not to get ahead of yourself._

 

He walked up to the apartment building and found the ancient looking callbox. _Niima—2B._ He pressed the button and was surprised when, after a few seconds, he heard the front door click open without any preamble. Not even a “who’s there?” from the intercom.

 

_Well. That’s odd._

 

Ben entered and climbed the stairs to the second floor. From what he could tell, there were only two units on each level. He found Rey’s door, took a deep breath, and knocked.

 

The door opened almost immediately, but Rey was clearly surprised to see him. Her eyes went as wide as he’d ever seen them and her mouth fell open just slightly. They both stood there, paralyzed for a moment. His heart squeezed as he took in her splotchy face and the way some of her hair had escaped her braid. She _had_ been crying. He’d made her cry _._ Damn _,_ that made him feel like six kinds of shit _._

 

Rey found her voice first. “You’re not my Indian food.”

 

* * *

 

 

Ben Solo stood blinking at her in her doorway, looking tall and unsure and concerned. Rey was completely thunderstruck. What in God’s name was he doing at her apartment?

 

“Uh, no. I’m not,” he muttered. He ran a large hand through his hair nervously, his stupid bicep flexing a little under another one of those short sleeve button ups he seemed to favor. Rey hated herself for noticing.

 

Right. Well. Surely the polite thing to do was to invite him inside? She stood aside wordlessly, jerking her chin to indicate that he should enter.

 

But once he was standing in the middle of her apartment, she was at a loss. He looked far too big for the room, too tall and too broad and too _Ben._ Her furniture seemed to have shrunk around him. He looked around the room with distracted interest, his eyes skimming over everything until they landed on her big bookshelf that dominated one whole wall. He walked over to it and began to read the spines of her collection. Rey stood watching him, nonplussed.

 

Rey was proud of her apartment. She’d moved in only six months ago, not long after Luke had hired her on full time. It was a small one bedroom, but it was a step up from the microscopic studio she’d had when she first moved to Atlanta. Her decorating style reflected something of the scavenger lifestyle she’d had growing up. Knickknacks she’d found in antique stores and flea markets dotted the living room. A jade comb here, a crystal swan figurine there, an old record player stand that she’d refurbished standing near the couch. She collected things that caught her eye or intrigued her. Sometimes they were things that she’d wanted to take apart and put back together again, just to see how they worked.

 

And plants. She had a lot of plants. Every windowsill was crowded with them, and she had at least a dozen hanging from macramé holders attached to the ceiling. She bit her lip in amusement when Ben turned around too quickly and knocked his head lightly on one of them. He rubbed at his forehead and gave her an uncertain, wry smile.

 

“Nice place. It’s very you.”

 

She pursed her lips, unsure whether he was actually complimenting her or not. He probably lived in one of those cold, modern townhouses on the West Side, some big imposing lump of minimalist concrete and glass.

 

She cleared her throat. “What are you doing here, Ben?”

 

His smile faded and he shoved his hands into his pockets. Good lord, he looked nervous. Ben Solo was in her apartment and he looked _nervous._ Some small, feline part of Rey thrilled at the thought.

 

He studied his feet, then a spot on the wall above her head. “I came to apologize. For what I said earlier, I mean. In the trailer. I shouldn’t have spoken to you that way.” He blew out a long breath and finally managed to meet her gaze. “I was out of line. Please forgive my rudeness.”

 

For what felt like the tenth time that day, Rey was speechless. Ben apologizing was…well, it was disarming in the extreme. She’d known him long enough to guess that he didn’t do it often. And it was clear from the stilted, formal way he spoke that he didn’t have much practice admitting he was wrong.

 

 _Dammit._ He could be _such_ an ass. But here he was, shuffling his feet awkwardly in her little apartment, looking for all the world like he felt bad about it. It was hard not to be flattered by his effort.

 

She sighed. “Apology accepted. And just so you know, I think I…I overreacted. Of course I’ll attend the mayor’s party.” She rubbed at her temple a little in frustration. “It’s just that social events like those put me on edge. Hopefully I won’t embarrass myself. Or you.” She gave him a weak smile.

 

Before Rey realized what was happening, the atmosphere in the room changed. Ben took a few steps toward her, his expression shifting to one so soft that Rey’s heart took off at a gallop. She lowered herself to the nearby arm of her couch to disguise the fact that her knees had gone slightly weak and looked up at him warily.

 

“C’mon Rey,” he said quietly. “ _You_ embarrass _me?_ Have we met? I wrote the book on hating social events. I’m ill-mannered and ill-tempered and…well, anything else that you can be _ill_ at, I’m it.” He smiled a little and reached a hand out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. The gentle brush of his fingers over her cheek sent a hot shiver down her spine and goosebumps across her arms. She sucked in a shallow breath, and he pulled his hand away quickly. But he didn’t step back from her, so she allowed herself to keep staring up at him, some distant part of her brain wondering what in the _hell_ was going on.

 

“I don’t know who told you that you weren’t good enough for this job, Rey. If it was me, if _I_ ever gave you that impression, then I’m sorry for that, too.”

 

Rey shook her head slightly. “You didn’t—I don’t…” But how could she even begin to explain?

 

 _Dammit, Ben Solo. What are you_ doing _to me?_

 

Ben just nodded, as though maybe he understood. And for a few lovely moments they just…looked at each other, both of them seeing perhaps more than either had before.

 

Until a sharp rap at the door jolted Rey back to reality. _Right. The food._

 

Rey went to the door to retrieve her take out. When she returned, she was equal parts saddened and relieved that most of the overwhelming intimacy of the moment before had dissipated. Ben’s hands were back in his pockets and _God_ , he was handsome _._

 

She thought about what Finn had said, about Ben having a crush on her. Seeing him standing there looking so big and vulnerable in her space, Rey realized with a sinking feeling that regardless of what Ben felt, she was already a goner.

 

_Fuck._

 

He was shifting from foot to foot now, looking unsure whether he should go or stay.

_Don’t go. Don’t go yet._

 

Forcing a bright smile, Rey held up the plastic bags bulging with food. “Stay for lunch? I ordered enough for like ten people. I don’t think my boss will mind if I play hooky for the rest of the day, and there’s a new true crime series on Netflix that I’ve been meaning to become obsessed with.”

 

Ben’s face broke into an actual, honest to God grin and it was so heart stoppingly gorgeous that Rey was proud of herself for not spontaneously combusting on the spot. Even more adorable was the way he quickly reined in his expression, as though such an honest display of pleasure was embarrassing and unseemly.

 

“Yeah, ok, sure,” he said causally. “You know, your boss sounds like a cool guy. Good looking, too, I’ll bet. And charming, probably.”

 

Rey rolled her eyes and snorted. “He’s alright,” she allowed.

 

 _He’s perfect,_ she thought.


	6. The Motherfucking Netherfield Ball

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ben talks to Leia and Poe has a wonderful idea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh...you guys? We have a problem. I can't seem to stop writing this story. I hope you don't mind a little unexpected update? I blame all of you kind, wonderful, enthusiastic bastards who left me comments. I can't get enough of them!
> 
> ...at this point I don't even know when I'll put up the next chapter. Three days? Three hours? Who cares, I'm having a blast and I hope you all are too!

_One Week Later_

**_“Hello Ben, it’s your mother. I’ve tried calling you a few times now…I know you’re busy, darling, but please give me a call back when you have a moment, alright? It’s been a couple of months since we’ve spoken…”_ **

Ben deleted the voicemail from Leia, the fourth in the past week, and let a low growl of annoyance rumble out of his chest. He sat in a roughhewn Adirondack chair in his backyard, watching the fireflies blinking lazily over his hydrangea bushes in the swiftly fading summer twilight. He was still sweaty from his workout, a nightly ritual that _usually_ left him with a clear head. But tonight, halfway through his run, the music that had been pounding through his headphones had halted and the word _Mother_ had lit up the screen accusingly. He’d let it go to voicemail _again_ , because apparently Leia couldn’t take a hint.

 

He lifted his half-finished beer to his lips, drained the rest in one gulp, and stood to walk into the house and retrieve another, knowing he was only delaying the inevitable. He’d have to call his mother tonight.

 

But not without another beer.

 

He trudged into his house, pulling off his damp t-shirt as he went. The humidity had been oppressive this week, even for a native Atlantan like Ben. Retrieving another beer from the fridge, he stood in front of the open door for a moment, the cold air curling around his bare torso and bracing him for the task at hand. He cracked his Tropicalia and thumbed to his mother’s number in his phone, praying it went to voicemail.

 

No such luck.

 

“Hello? Ben, honey?”

 

“Hi, Mom.”

 

He heard a shuffling noise on the other end as his mother adjusted the phone to her ear. “Hi, sweetheart, how are you? It’s good to hear from you”

 

Ben felt his jaw tighten as it always did when he heard his mother’s voice. A familiar, adolescent mix of guilt, annoyance, love, and self-loathing washed over him. In an instant, he felt like an angry teenager again.

 

“Yeah, I saw you called…it’s just been really busy with the project kicking off and stuff.”

 

 _And stuff? Jesus, I even_ sound _like a teenager._

 

“Of course, Ben. We’re so proud of you, you know. Luke said that your plans are just stunning, we can’t wait to—“

 

And just like that, Ben lost his grip on the conversation.

 

“Luke? Yes, I suppose _Luke_ could have told you all about the plans, since he used his connections in the mayor’s office to get a look at them without my permission. Interesting that you’ve spoken with him. Was that before or _after_ he pissed off to Barcelona? It’s been nearly three weeks since he bailed, and Rey says even she hasn’t been able to get ahold of—“ He broke off abruptly, wishing he could bite off his own tongue.

 

_Shit._

 

There was a pause on Leia’s end, and then, “Rey? Who’s Rey?”

 

_Dammit. Bush league mistake, Solo._

“She’s just…she’s an employee of Luke’s,” Ben sighed. His mother had always been an absolute bloodhound when it came to his romantic life, or lack thereof. He’d learned a long time ago never to give her any morsel of information when it came to the women in his social orbit. And he’d just broken that cardinal rule, like a damn moron.

 

“Really? Will she be at the mayor’s party on Saturday? I’d like to meet her.”

 

Ben closed his eyes and winced. This just got better and better. “You’re attending?”

 

“Well, sweetheart, that’s what I’ve been calling to tell you. You know the mayor and I go way back, and the foundation was a big supporter of his campaign. Your father and I have a standing invite to his annual party, but he was particularly excited for us to come this year, seeing as you’re the Guest of Honor...” Leia paused again, but then she continued, unable to leave well enough alone because, honestly, what else was new?

 

“We _are_ proud of you, Ben, even if we find it hard to understand why you’d take your talents to First Order when so many other firms would be—“

 

“Welp, that’s my cue,” Ben snapped

 

“Don’t you hang up just yet, Ben Kenobi Solo,” his mother said sharply, her own frustration clearly beginning to break through the whole Concerned Mother routine. Good. It was a tired act anyway. He waited, heard her take a deep, calming breath.

 

“I don’t have to remind you that your father and I have a reputation to uphold in this community, and I would prefer to avoid any…unseemly displays at the party that might embarrass us. I trust you understand my meaning?”

 

“You want me to smile and make nice and keep my temper, and maybe throw in a mother-son dance, while I’m at it?” Ben asked hollowly.

 

There was another pause, longer this time. He heard a faint, pained sniff and against his will his heart give a sharp pinch.

 

“Would it be so very _horrible_ to dance with your mother?”

 

Damn her, she was good. Never let it be said that Leia Skywalker-Solo was without prodigious political skill. Ben scrubbed a savage hand through his hair and sighed.

 

“Don’t worry, Mother. I have no wish to embarrass either of us. And you’ll get your dance.”

 

He heard Leia let out a relieved breath. “We’re looking forward to the party, honestly honey. And I’m _very_ interested to meet this _Rey_ pers—“

 

“Bye, Mom!”

 

Ben ended the call swiftly and then let himself collapse over his kitchen island, forearms braced against the cool marble and head hanging low. As if the Rey situation wasn’t already complicated enough, now his mother wasn’t going to rest until she’d met her and subjected her to one of her interrogations.

 

He groaned. _Rey._

 

He hadn’t allowed himself to see her for the past week, taking care to avoid the jobsite when he knew she’d be there. He’d told himself it was because he needed to focus, that this was an important point in the lifecycle of the project and that he couldn’t afford distractions. But that was only half true. Rey _was_ a distraction, albeit a lovely one, but the real reason he’d been avoiding her was that he was terrified of how fucking _into_ her he was.

 

God, he was really, _really_ into her.

 

Ben had always been an intense guy, so it was probably odd that he’d managed to avoid the whole _infatuation_ thing thus far in his life. He’d dated casually in college, mostly as a means to sex. Around age 25, women started noticing him without any effort on his part and he dispensed with the dating altogether. These days he had a well-curated shortlist of beautiful, discreet women who he could call when he was in the mood to fuck someone. They worked for him, these no-strings arrangements, and he’d never had the urge to look for something more.

 

But he’d known for a while now that Rey’s effect on him was something different, something unique. And in his case it was also uncharted territory. He had _no_ idea what to do next. He was scared shitless.

 

Obviously, the whole Avoid Her, Avoid Feels strategy wasn’t effective, not by any stretch. He’d thought about her every waking minute since he left her apartment. Every _sleeping_ minute, too, actually, since she’d taken on a starring role in some of the most vivid sex dreams he’d had in his life. (Last night’s had been a real doozy involving a naked, writhing Rey spread across his drafting table like a fucking banquet. He’d taken himself in hand _twice_ in the shower this morning. Hadn’t had to do _that_ since he was about thirteen.)

 

So what was his next move? A fucking _date_? Was he even _allowed_ to ask her out when she was kinda sorta working for him? And even if he was, what the fuck did he know about grown up dating?

 

Ben shook himself and gulped at his beer. First things first. They had to survive this damn party on Saturday. He knew she was terrified to go, so that’s where he would start. He would make it his mission to show her a good time. Hell, he’d stand next to her the whole night if she needed him to.

 

Leia would shit kittens, of course, and Han would be insufferable. But, again, what else was new?

 

* * *

 

 

“We’re only behind by a week. That’s, like, _nothing_ in construction time,” Poe said patiently, offering Rey his arm as she picked her way down the packed steppes of the amphitheatre. It was early evening, and the construction crews were long gone. Without all the noise, the site was quite peaceful.

 

It was pretty astounding how quickly Poe’s team had worked. The shape of the seating area was now rendered in dark brown earth that that been outlined with the wooden frames and crossed with rebar. The steppes themselves, each row three feet tall by six feet deep, would use pervious concrete for the risers and fescue for the majority of the surface area.

 

But there was no getting around using old school, non-pervious concrete to create the five spoke-like sets of stairs that would lead concert-goers down do their seats. Today was pouring day. That is, it _would_ be pouring day, if only they could manage to go seventy-two hours without rain. A thunderstorm late the previous night had soaked the earth, meaning they’d had to reschedule the concrete trucks _again._  

 

“Are you sure? A week seems like…I don’t know, a week.” _I would know._

 

“I’m sure, Rey. Besides, there’s no accounting for the weather.”

 

Rey sighed in resignation. “Yeah, ok. You’re the expert.” She looked out over the retention pond, watching the way the last of the sun’s rays lit the surface of the water on fire. “It’s going to be really special, isn’t it? Once it’s finished, I mean.”

 

Poe nodded grudgingly. “Yeah, it is. It’s going to be our St. Louis Arch. Or Space Needle. It’s one _hell_ of a design.”

 

Rey didn’t respond. She was thinking, of course, of Ben. He was basically the _only_ thing she’d been able to think about since he’d shown up at her apartment a week ago. She hadn’t seen him since; they were always missing each other at the job site.  She’d only heard from him via a few emails, all work-related. Which was really fucking annoying, if she was honest.

 

Because she couldn’t help feeling like they’d been on the precipice of something in her living room. Like something precious and important had unfurled between them and _dammit_ for the first time she could remember the idea of such _closeness_ to another person hadn’t seemed like some sort of impossible luxury she’d never experience. And now for things to have stalled so abruptly…

 

She realized Poe was looking at her with knowing smirk. “I wonder who you could _possibly_ be thinking about.”

 

“Oh, eff off,” she grumbled, but she was unable to keep an embarrassed smile from curving at the corners of her mouth.

 

“The lady blushes!” he crowed in triumph. “Ugh, you two. Just make out and get it over with. Even _I_ want you to bump uglies with Solo at this point, and I don’t even like the dude. He’s an ass.”

 

Rey bit back the defense that immediately came to her lips. No point in giving Poe more ammo. She settled for glaring at him instead.

 

Poe continued, undeterred. “He’s an ass, but he’s got it about as bad as I’ve ever seen it for you, babe. I can’t wait for your first date or whate--OMIGOD!”

 

Rey nearly jumped out of her skin at Poe’s exclamation. “Jesus! What!?”

 

“The mayor’s party! What are you going to wear?” Poe was fairly shouting at her now.

 

“Um, I don’t…know? Yet?”

 

Poe let out a strangled grunt and reached out to grip her upper arms tightly, eyes wide.

 

“Whaaaaat is happening right now? Are you having a stroke?”

 

Poe snatched his hands away from her arms and used them instead to pat his pockets, eventually locating his phone and tugging it out of his pocket. He punched at the screen frantically and then lifted it to his ear.

 

“Poe, for God’s sake, what are you—“

 

But he just smushed his pointer finger to her lips. “Shush. ShushshushshushFinn?” His voice went up three octaves when his boyfriend picked up and Rey was suddenly _terrified_.

 

“Hey baby…no I’m about to leave…yeah, no I know…Finn… _Finn_ …FINN!” Poe threw his eyes heavenward and sighed in exasperation.

 

“Well I’m _sorry_ for cutting you off, but _listen_ for a second… _thank you._ Now…” Poe took a deep breath, his mouth stretching into a grin so wide it looked manic. “We have a genuine, hand to Jesus She’s All That scenario on our hands. Or maybe it’s a Pretty In Pink. Or _fuck_ , wait, I know! It’s a full-on Pride and Prejudice! It’s _the motherfucking Netherfield Ball_!”

 

Rey heard the muffled sound of Finn’s voice, and then, “No I _am_ serious, babe, I’m fucking not even playing right now. I don’t know why neither of us realized it before. Babe. The mayor’s party. Rey. Rey and—“

 

Poe pulled the phone away from his ear, looking smug as Finn’s low voice exploded through the earpiece, words indecipherable but tone clearly excited.

 

Rey finally caught on and _ohhhhhhhhh fuuuckkkk._

 

But Poe was already descending on her, looking like a demented six year old with a brand new Barbie.

 

“Now Rey, there’s no need to look scared. We’re going to make you _so pretty!”_


	7. A Lesson in Darts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Rey and Ben and Finn and Poe attend the mayor's party. And Han and Leia, too!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi again! I started writing this one and just...couldn't seem to stop! It's a bit longer than my usual, but it's full of lots of lovely romantical moments, if you're into that sort of thing :)
> 
> I apologize for any typos, but I wanted to get this up before the weekend. Also, this is kind of a big swing for me, writing wise, so I'd appreciate any encouragement or good vibes you could leave in the comments!

“Finn, I swear to God, if you come near me with those things again, you will suffer grievous bodily harm.”

 

Rey ducked under Finn’s arm, away from the spiky, sticky strip of false eyelashes that he held pinched between his forefingers and thumbs.

 

“Now Rey—“ Finn started, looking at her like she was an errant toddler.

 

“No! I draw the line at fake lashes, Finn.” Rey glared at him, wondering for the twentieth time that day why she’d subjected herself to this farce. Finn sighed and carefully set the false eyelashes on Poe’s dining room table, which was currently strewn with all manner of makeup, beauty products and hair styling tools.

 

“Fine,” he said in defeat. “You don’t really need them anyway. You already look gorgeous. Just a little setting powder and I’ll send you to Poe for _wardrobe._ ” He said the last word in a low, breathy impersonation of Meryl Streep in The Devil Wear Prada, waggling his eyebrows.

 

Rey scowled and shifted in the seat she’d occupied for what felt like hours, uncomfortable with the praise. She’d never given _that_ much thought to her looks… _fashion_ and _beauty_ were two words that hadn’t been used a lot in her foster home.

 

“I’m sure I look ridiculous,” she grumbled self-consciously.

 

Finn paused, powder brush midair. “You really don’t know, do you?”

 

“Know what?” _Whatever it is, just add it to the list of things I’m clueless about. Along with which fork to use for salads and how to waltz._  

 

“You’re a looker, babe.” Finn shrugged, “You’ve got an old Hollywood vibe that isn’t really the _style_ right now, but it’s classic all the same. You’re a bit of a Garbo, peanut.”

 

Rey rolled her eyes, but couldn’t help the blush that creeped up her neck. She could count on one hand how many times she’d been called beautiful.

 

Finn seemed not to notice her response. “That’s why these old school Veronica Lake waves look so good on you,” he said, winking.

 

“Not that I’d know,” Rey said in exasperation. Finn had refused to let her see her hair and makeup yet, insisting that she wait until she was fully dressed.

 

She perked up when Poe entered the room, her mouth falling open in appreciation. He looked heartthrob level handsome in his tux, like something she’d see on the E! channel during a red carpet interview.

 

“Poe, oh my god! You look _amazing_!” she exclaimed. Poe grinned and did a little Motown spin so she could get the full effect.

 

Finn rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t hide his beaming smile of pride. “If you’re finished over there, James Brown, I’d like to get your sign off on the lady.”

 

Poe took his place next to Finn and they both looked down at her assessingly, making her feel like an some insect caught under a glass. Then they both tilted their heads at exactly the same time, and Rey had to fight off a smile. She really did love these two idiots.

 

Finally, Poe looked at Finn and nodded.

 

“You do good work, baby. Our little Lizzie you looks incredible. Darcy isn’t going to know what hit him.”

 

“For the last time,” Rey nearly shouted, “this isn’t Pride and Prejudice! _Please_ don’t embarrass me tonight, you guys, I’m already nervous enough as it is.”

 

Poe held his hands up in surrender, laughing. “Fine fine, no more literary allusions. Now, _you,_ ” he pointed at Poe, “go get dressed. I laid your tux out on the bed. And _you_ , my love…” Poe smiled, “come with me.”

 

She followed him to the guest bedroom, her eyes immediately falling to the gown hanging from the back of the closet door. It was a black, made of some sort of iridescent material that shimmered just slightly, with thin straps and a low, v-shaped neckline. The waist was asymmetrical, the bodice and the skirt gathered in a twist on one hip, leaving a small, wedge shaped cutout that would show a few inches of torso on the opposite side. The skirt was just full enough to look swishy. It was simple, and chic, and easily the most beautiful thing Rey had ever had the opportunity to put on her body.

 

She walked towards it slowly, heart very full. She ran her hands over the fabric reverently. “Poe, where—“ her voice caught, and she sucked in a deep breath to ward off the tears that were suddenly stinging her eyes. Great, now she was going to fuck up Finn’s makeup job.

 

Poe was at her side in an instant. “Hey hey, what’s wrong? Don’t tell me you hate it?”

 

“ _Hate_ it? Poe, it’s…it’s _gorgeous_. I don’t even know how to thank you. No one has ever…you guys are just so…”

 

Poe smiled and chucked her chin. “Oh, stop. None of that now. You’re special to us, dummy. We love you.”

 

“I’ll love you a lot less if you fuck up the smoky eye I just spent the last hour on.” Finn said from the doorway.

 

Rey gave a watery laugh and took him in. He now looked just as dapper as his partner. “You two look just..amazing.”

 

“Yes, yes we do. Now…”Finn grabbed Poe’s arm and spun them both toward the wall, facing away from her. “Put the damn dress on. We won’t peek.”

 

Rey did as she was told, slipping out of her borrowed bathrobe and lifting the filmy fabric over her head. She finished by pulling on her own unadorned but pretty black block heels.

 

“Ok. How does it look?”

 

Her best friends turned around at the same time, and the look on their faces was more gratifying than Rey expected. Poe’s eyes were shinning, grin wide, and Finn was nodding, mouth open. Poe seemed to remember something and dashed from the room, returning almost immediately holding a full-length mirror on a stand. He set it down in front of Rey and she nearly started crying again when she saw her reflection.

 

Poe _had_ done good work. Her hair was deeply parted, one side hanging just slightly over her eye and falling in large, gentle waves past her shoulders. Her eye makeup was indeed dramatically smoky, but Finn had paired the bold look with just a touch of nude lipstick so as not to overpower her face. And the dress…the dress was perfect. It had some sort of clever built in bra cups that gave her small breasts just the _slightest_ little push, and the cutout managed to be both chic _and_ sexy. She was glad Finn had insisted on using some fancy iridescent body lotion because her now her tan shoulders seemed to _glow_ against the black fabric.

 

“I love it. I love everything.” She turned to Finn and Poe, who were now just looking smug.

 

“It’s perfect. The fit is even…damn. Rose really knows what she’s doing.” Finn said.

 

“Rose?”

 

“You’ll have to meet her some time,” Finn said. She’s a friend of ours, owns a boutique in East Atlanta Village. Poe called in a favor and I gotta say, she came through.”

 

“Well, please tell her thank you from me,” Rey said earnestly.

 

“We will. Now,” Finn looked at his watch, “I believe we have time for one cocktail before we ring for the carriage to take us to Netherfield.”

 

Rey glared at him. “I believe you meant “order our Uber to take us to the mayor’s house.”

 

Finn shrugged innocently, “Whatever you say, peanut.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Er, Ben?”

 

“Hmm? Oh. I’m so sorry, I…what was the question?”

 

Mayor Organa gave Ben a bemused look. “I asked if you were waiting for someone in particular to arrive. You’ve been watching the door over my shoulder for the last ten minutes.”

 

_Yes, you windbag._

 

Ben cleared his throat and refocused his attention on the lean, wily man in front of him. “Not at all, sir.”

 

“Hmm.” The mayor eyed him shrewdly, but jumped to the wrong conclusion. “Your parents, perhaps?”

_Couldn’t care less when they arrive, actually._

 

But Ben gave the mayor and apologetic smile. “Yes. My mother has given me strict instructions to save her a dance. I’m afraid I’ve been so busy with the project lately that I’ve been a bit of a neglectful son.”

 

The mayor chuckled. “Well, I suppose she might blame _me_ for that. So make sure you _do_ dance with her. I’d hate to make an enemy of your mother.”

 

_Oh, I don’t doubt that._

 

Ben excused himself politely and made his way to the bar that had been set up in the next room, edging his way between clusters of Atlanta’s well-dressed elite. If the mayor had noticed how distracted he was, it probably meant he could use a stiff drink. He tapped the bar to get the bartenders attention, “Maker’s, rocks.” The bartender swiftly delivered the order and Ben, knowing he’d likely be making a few return trips, slipped a couple twenties into the tip jar. The bartender gave him a discreetly appreciative nod.

 

Well, now he had at least _one_ friend here tonight.

 

“Hiding out by the bar, Solo? Tsk tsk, you never were very good at these sort of things, were you?”

 

Ben closed his eyes for a moment, and considered just walking away and returning to his post by the door. Manners won out. Another thing to blame Leia for, he supposed. He turned and was met with the red-rimmed eyes and snide smirk of Armitage Hux. He didn’t bother to hide his sigh.

 

“Hello, Hux. A pleasure to see you, as always.”

 

“Yes, well. Father was a major donor, as you know, so I attend every year. How _happy_ for you that you were named the Guest of Honor.” Hux’s face made it clear he thought it was anything but.

 

Ben said nothing, hoping Hux would just…leave. He drained his glass and turned back to the bartender to signal for another. He’d have to eat something soon, at this rate.

 

“Well, fuck me,” Hux’s voice came from behind him. “ _She’s_ new.”

 

Ben stiffened, knowing instinctively who Hux was referring to. He took his refreshed drink from the bartender and forced himself to turn around slowly. And there she was, standing in the doorway, looking wide-eyed and nervous and _heartbreakingly_ beautiful. Breathtaking, actually. As in, Ben lost the ability to breathe for a moment, she was so perfect, She’d left her hair down; it fell around her shoulders in soft waves, and he realized with some amazement that he’d never seen it that way before. He had the laughable urge to thank her for the privilege. And he wanted to kiss the feet of whoever made that dress she was wearing. She was _glowing_ in it, the skin of her shoulders and décolletage and _Christ_ _above_ a bare patch at her side was just calling out to be stroked.

 

She scanned the room for a moment, and he was content just to look at her until her eyes finally found his. Her smile was immediate and unrestrained and _damn_ he could get used to that, to being a person she was excited to see. He felt his own mouth curving, and he had to make a concerted effort not to let it get away from him. It only happened with her, that ridiculous urge to grin fully. She walked towards him, dress shimmering as she moved, skirt swishing just a bit.

 

“Hi,” she said, still smiling.

 

“Hello, Rey.”

 

“Introduce me to your lovely friend, Solo.” Hux was still here? Goddamit, Hux was still fucking here _and_ he’d gotten to call Rey lovely before he could?

 

_God, I really fucking hate him._

 

Rey was still smiling but looking a little nervous again and he remembered how she said she hated parties like this. Right. He could fix that.

 

“Hux, this is Rey Niima,” Ben said, not taking his eyes off of her. “She’s the landscape architect working on the amphitheatre project. She’s smart and talented and she looks very beautiful tonight.”

 

Rey’s eyes widened and her mouth parted slightly. He’d surprised her.

 

_That’s right, gorgeous. I’m coming for you tonight._

 

After a beat, she turned to Hux. “It’s a pleasure,” she said, extending her hand.

 

Hux, deflated, left as soon as he’d shaken her hand, muttering something about mingling.

 

Which left them alone, staring at each other. She was wearing those pearl and gold earrings from the groundbreaking, he noticed. He liked those. Liked the thought of knowing her well enough to recognize her jewelry.

 

“Drink?” he asked. Rey looked a little dazed, but she shook herself long enough to murmur “Gin and tonic. Double lime.”

 

The bartender gave him a knowing, _attaboy_ smile as he handed the drink to Ben.

 

She took the glass from him and took a deep drink. She was still nervous. Was _he_ making her nervous? He liked the thought of that, a little, maybe.

 

“Thank you for saying that. You didn’t have to.”

 

“Which part? Smart? Talented?” he teased. At least, he hoped it was teasing. He couldn’t be sure, he’d never really tried it before. But he wanted to, with Rey. She blushed and looked into her drink, and he relented. Besides, he wanted to tell her again…

 

“It’s true. You look beautiful tonight, Rey.”

 

She let out a long, thready breath through pursed lips, as though she was blowing out candles on a birthday cake, and shook her head a little. She looked up at him through her lashes, clearly ignorant of the effect it would have on him. “Thank you. Now stop saying it, or I’m going to die from…I don’t know, blushing, or something.”

 

He chuckled, suddenly _so fucking_ _happy_ to be here, tonight, with her. She seemed to regain some of her composure and gave him a wry smile.

 

“You clean up pretty well yourself, you know. God, first Poe and Finn and now _you._ Someone should have warned me about men in tuxedos. You all look so…”

 

Her eyes roved over his chest and shoulders and _oh my god_ was she checking him out? “…yes?”

 

Rey wrinkled her nose at him. “You look rather swoony, if you must know,” she said reluctantly.

 

“Swoony?” He was fighting that all-out grin again. Christ, people were going to think he was high; Ben Solo didn’t _grin._ “As in, I’m making you _swoon_?”

 

She scowled at him. “I used it strictly as an adjective. Do I look like I’m swooning?”

 

He studied her seriously for a moment. “No. I’ll have to try harder.”

 

Rey actually looked a little alarmed for a half a second, but then she turned to let her eyes roam over the room. “I shouldn’t have told you. Now you’re going to be insufferable,” she said primly.

 

He let himself watch her for a moment, trying to gauge her comfort level. She didn’t look nervous anymore. She just looked curious and intelligent, as usual, eyes taking details, lingering here and there with interest. Suddenly she brightened and waved, and Ben followed her gaze to the doorway, where Poe and Finn-not-Rey’s-boyfriend had just entered. Rey was right. Even Ben could admit they looked pretty swoony.

 

“They helped me get ready tonight,” Rey confided as the couple made their way over. “Picked out my dress and everything.”

 

“Did they?” Ben murmured, thinking he’d have to send them an edible arrangement or something if they were the ones responsible for that swath of smooth skin above her hip. 

 

“We got a little worried when you didn’t come back,” Poe said once he reached them, grinning. “But now I see you were waylaid by the man of the hour. Solo,” Poe extended his hand and Ben shook it. Poe’s partner seemed less impressed when Ben extended his hand to him also.

 

“It’s Finn, right? We met at the groundbreaking.”

 

Finn’s eyes narrowed a little. “We did.” He finally took Ben’s hand in the briefest possible clasp. Well. He probably deserved that.

 

Ben stepped aside and allowed Finn to move to the bar. “Don’t mind him,” Poe said cheerfully, “He’s just mad because Councilwoman Harrow told me I looked like James Bond. He’s jealous.”

 

Ben heard Finn let out an annoyed huff behind him.

 

“I’m sure it was harmless, Finn,” Rey said, peaking around Ben’s shoulder to look at him. “I doubt the councilwoman has any designs on your man.”

 

Poe threw his head back and laughed, but Ben barely registered it because Rey had placed her hand on his forearm as she leaned around him and he felt the heat of her so acutely that it was as if she was touching his bare skin. And when her hand slipped away again a moment later, he felt the loss of it just as acutely.

 

Finn rejoined them, handing Poe a glass of red wine with a scowl.

 

“He’s not jealous of the councilwoman, Rey,” Poe explained. “He’s jealous of me. He fancies _himself_ the James Bond in this relationship.”

 

Rey giggled and Ben wished he were better at breezy small talk. It was a skill both his mother and father possessed, but somehow he’d never gotten the hang of it. God knows he’d had enough opportunity to practice growing up, what with Leia dragging him all over the city for fundraisers and parties just like this one. But he’d always been better at the formal stuff, like introductions and discussions about Serious Topics.

 

“Oh, you’re both James Bond to me,” Rey told Finn consolingly. “You too, Ben. You’re all James Bonds. Or maybe it’s Jameses Bond? Whatever.”

 

She was drawing him into the conversation on purpose, and with ease, and it made him wonder why she had dreaded this party so much. She was a natural. Before he could respond, Poe pipped up.

 

“I don’t know. Solo has always seemed like more of a Fitzwilliam Darcy to me.”

 

Rey choked on her drink and sputtered a little. She was glaring daggers at Poe, who blithely handed her his cocktail napkin, which she used to dab at her mouth.

 

Oh. This was some inside joke. Probably at his expense. He felt his good mood begin to fray a bit, but then he felt that warm hand on his forearm again, and he looked down to see Rey looking up at him like he was the only person in the room.

 

“Ignore them. They split a bottle of four dollar champagne in the Uber and now they think they’re clever.”

 

And just like that, his good mood was restored.

 

“No, I remember that Darcy guy. Rich? Bit of a snob? Anti-social and bad at small talk?” Ben shrugged. “Sounds like me,” he said to Poe. And Poe, the weirdo, broke out into one of his big dumb smiles. Finn too, actually. They were _both_ smiling at him. He felt Rey’s hand tighten on his arm just a little, and he looked down to find _her_ smiling at him as well.

 

“What?” he said, bemused. “Isn’t that the guy?”

 

“Oh, that’s the guy, Solo,” Poe said, looping his arm through Finn’s. “And he gets the girl, too, in the end. Come on, babe,” he said to Finn. “Let’s go make a lap and find some food.”

 

Ben looked back to Rey, who still hadn’t let go of his arm. “I take it back,” she said quietly, “I might swoon after all, Ben Solo.”

 

It was Ben’s turn to blush. “Yeah?”

 

She nodded. “Yeah.”

 

“I wouldn’t advise it,” came an amused voice from behind them. Ben closed his eyes. Impeccable timing, as usual. “They’re starting to pass around the crab puffs. Trust me, you don’t want to faint before trying one. They’re delicious.”

 

Ben turned around, resisting the urge to put himself in front of Rey like a shield. She turned too, innocent that she was. If she’d known better she would have bolted for the door.

 

“Hello, Mother.”

 

* * *

 

 

So this was the illustrious Leia Skywalker-Solo.

 

Aside from a resemblance to Luke, she was completely unlike what Rey had expected. She was short, for one thing; Ben had to bend down rather dramatically to drop a kiss to her cheek. Her iron hair was done up in a complicated braided updo, and she was wearing a dark green, long sleeved satin dress with a dramatic collar opened across her shoulders. She looked regal, alright, but her mouth was cut in a savage smirk that hinted at a wicked sense of humor. Ben straightened and Leia quirked a brow at Rey.

 

“And this is?” she asked, her voice surprisingly gravely. Rey liked it. It was the voice of a woman who had done some serious living.

 

She heard Ben sigh, just a little. “Mom, this is Rey Niima. Rey, this is my mother, Leia.”

 

Leia’s eyebrows went up and she flicked her eyes to Ben briefly before saying with a smile, “Ah, yes. You work for my brother?”

 

“Yes ma’am, I do.”

“Ma’am! Ha! Aren’t you precious. Call me Leia, Rey,” she said, taking one of her hands in both of hers. “You know half my family already, after all.”

 

Still clasping Rey’s hand, Leia looked over to Ben. “Go check on your father, would you honey? I’m fairly certain he’s already out in the pool house playing poker with people who really shouldn’t be caught doing so.”

 

Ben’s eyes narrowed at his mother, and damn if hers didn’t narrow right back. Rey nearly laughed; it was clear where Ben got his imperious glare. His eyes looked back to her and she felt her chest go all warm at the concern there. It was almost like he didn’t want to leave her.

 

Leia made an exasperated noise. “I’m not going to _hurt_ the poor girl, Ben. I left all my dastardly torture devices at home.”

 

Ben’s jaw tightened. “I’ll just be a few minutes, Rey. Don’t…don’t go anywhere, ok? And you,” he turned to Leia and said quietly, “go easy.”

 

Leia rolled her eyes and made a _tsk_ noise as Ben moved away through the crowd. “He’d have you believe I’m an evil dragon. I swear I’m not.”

 

“You don’t look anything like a dragon to me,” Rey said seriously.

 

Leia chuckled and drew Rey’s hand through her arm. “Come over here and let’s sit. These fucking heels are killing me.”

 

Rey realized she was going to like Leia Skywalker-Solo quite a lot. She hoped Ben didn’t mind.

 

They made their way toward the periphery of the room, where chairs and couches had been arranged. One such couch miraculously emptied of people as they approached, everyone standing to offer Leia their seat as though she were some sort of queen. Maybe she was. Rey had certainly never known anyone who commanded this sort of deference. It was a strange and terrifying world she had stepped into tonight.

 

They settled onto the couch and Rey looked down at her mostly empty drink, wishing she’d had the forethought to get another before sitting. Leia might be likeable, but she was still intimidating, and she could use the liquid courage. Rey was realizing that she very much wanted to make a good impression.

 

Because it was quite possible that she was head over heels for the woman’s son.

 

Leia noticed her empty drink as well. “Easily remedied, my dear,” she murmured. She craned her neck a little and caught the bartender’s eye before pointing down at Rey’s empty glass. The man nodded, made a fresh drink, and left his post to bring it over.

 

“And can I get _you_ anything?” the bartender asked Leia as he handed Rey her drink. He flashed her a flirty, crooked grin.

 

“Sadly my boy, I’ve been off the sauce for twenty years now. I was too good at drinking it. But thank you.”

 

Well. That was…candid. Leia must have noticed her shock, because she flapped a casual hand. “Alcoholism. It happens.”

 

She nodded. “Yes. It does,” she said quietly. Leia eyed her more closely, but thankfully let the subject drop.

 

“So! Luke must be quite impressed with your skills to leave you high and dry here in Atlanta while he’s laying around some Spanish topless beach.”

 

Rey snorted and then clapped her hand to her mouth in embarrassment. But Leia just smiled serenely.

 

“I don’t know if _my_ skills have anything to do with him assigning me to the project. They’re his designs.”

 

Leia tilted her head. “Are they? I hear you’ve made one or two clever improvements.”

 

Rey blanched, the bottom of her stomach dropping out. She hadn’t been able to get in touch with Luke to get his sign off on the drainage canal solution that she and Ben had agreed on. Ben obviously hadn’t cared, and had pushed forward with their revised plans. Rey still wasn’t sure how she was going to explain the changes once Luke returned…she’d carefully avoided thinking about it. But how the hell did _Leia_ know?

 

Leia smiled and patted Rey’s hand. “Little bird told me. I wouldn’t worry about it. I’m just impressed you managed to get my son to compromise. He can be a truculent little shit. Gets it from me. And yet he hasn’t managed to scare you off yet.”

 

Rey bit back a smile and looked down into her drink. Leia was fishing. She considered how to answer for a moment and finally decided to match Leia’s candor with her own.

 

“Your son makes a horrible first impression, an intimidating second one, and a surprisingly charming third.”

 

Leia studied Rey, a slow smile spreading across her face. Rey began to blush, though she couldn’t say exactly why.

 

“Well, then. There you have it,” Leia murmured to herself. Then her eyes narrowed at Rey’s ear.

 

“Those are beautiful earrings. Where did you get them?”

 

Rey lifted her hand to her ear, fingering the teardrop shaped jewelry. “They were a graduation gift from a professor of mine at LSU. Jewelry making was a hobby of hers. Actually, it’s funny you ask, because it was her recommendation that got me the internship with Luke.”

 

Leia threw her head back and laughed. “Oh lord, Rey. If I didn’t like you already, this certainly seals it.”

 

Rey couldn’t help but smile at the sight of Leia in full laughter. “What do you mean?”

 

“That professor wouldn’t have been Amilyn Holdo, would it?” Realization dawned. It would make sense that Professor Holdo knew the Skywalker family, given her pull in the internship program.

 

“Yes,” Rey admitted with a smile.

 

Leia turned her head to the side, displaying a pair of earrings that were remarkably like Rey’s, though they were studs instead of teardrops. They’d clearly been made by the same artist.

 

“Amilyn has been one of my dearest friends for years,” Leia explained. She looked at Rey with a thoughtful smile. “Well hell, Rey. I like you. I’ll have to tell Ben the opposite, of course. Can’t risk him thinking I approve of…whatever it is that’s going on between you two. He does so _hate_ my approval. I don’t know _what_ we’re going to do if Han likes you too, heaven forbid.”

 

Rey’s blush returned in full, furious force, heat spreading from her chest to her hairline. She could only imagine what her face looked like. Puce, probably. Leia chuckled, looking delighted.

 

“Ok, ok, I’ll stop now. You’ve held up remarkably well, Rey Niima. You’ll have to forgive this meddling mother.”

 

“I’ll forgive you if you call that bartender back over here with another drink,” Rey muttered into her glass. Leia laughed again, loud and long, and then she did just that. “Get this woman some champagne, would you please?” she said when the bartender arrived, “She’s earned it.”

 

 

Ben returned a few minutes later, still looking impossibly tall and handsome in his tux. He eyes traveled between the two of them suspiciously while Rey watched him. Her heart felt dangerously full.

 

_He called me beautiful. Twice._

 

Which was twice more than any other man ever had, save Finn and Poe this very evening. It was wonderful and terrifying all at the same time, the way he’d been with her tonight. Attentive and kind and even making nice with her friends. He was still the same Ben, serious and quiet and broody and just slightly standoffish. But she’d coaxed two of those restrained smiles out of him and she’d even been blessed with one of his rare, low, sexy as hell chuckles. He was _trying_ , and damn if it wasn’t turning her the fuck on.

 

_And he called me beautiful. Twice._

 

“Did she behave?” he asked.

 

“No,” both women replied simultaneously, then burst into giggles. Rey’s champagne was making her feel just the tiniest, nicest bit floaty.

 

Ben’s eyes widened in alarm. “Uh oh,” Leia said beside her. “I believe that look there is my cue to leave.” She stood, smoothing her skirt. “Did you find that degenerate who sired you?”

 

Ben’s mouth flattened. “Yes. He is, in fact, in the pool house. I saw tequila on the poker table, so he’s clearly beyond my influence now, mom. You’ll have to go rein him in yourself.”

 

Leia sighed. “A wife’s work is never done. It’s rather a shit job, actually. I’ll find you at the end of the night for that dance, son of mine.” And with that, Leia was gone.

 

“Such a happy family, aren’t we?” Ben asked with a tense smile as he watched his mother leave. Rey didn’t know how to respond. She didn’t know much about happy families, herself.

 

“I liked her very much,” she said quietly. And since honesty seemed to be serving her well tonight, she added, “I could see how she’d be a real _pill_ of a mother, though.”

 

Ben barked out a laugh and looked down at her with a surprised smile.

 

Slowly, carefully, Rey tucked her hand into the crook of Ben’s arm. The heat of him nearly made her close her eyes, it was so pleasant. But she didn’t close her eyes. She kept looking at him, letting his heat and the scent of his goddamn _sinful_ cologne envelope her for just a moment.

 

“That’s twice now,” she said.

 

“What?” she was gratified when his voice came out just the slightest bit breathless.

 

“You’ve laughed twice now tonight.”

 

“You’re counting my laughs?”

 

Rey shrugged. “It happens so rarely. It tends to make an impression.”

 

Ben looked a little embarrassed, which was adorable. “Would that be—I mean—does it make a _good_ impression? When I laugh?”

He was so fucking _cute._

 

Rey nodded solemnly. “It makes a very good impression. Especially when you do it while being so tall and looking the way you do in that tux.” Rey had no idea what had gotten into her; she’d never been this bold with a man in her life. Maybe it was the champagne. Maybe her talk with Leia had made her brave.

 

Ben’s eyes went all smoldery. “There’s dancing in the next room. Do you want to—“

 

“No!”

 

_Not that brave. Not brave enough to expose myself as the classless trailer trash that I am._

Ben looked bewildered, and maybe a little hurt.

 

“It’s just…” _Ugh,_ this was the _worst._ “I don’t know how. No one ever…I never learned.”

 

Ben must have registered the embarrassed panic on her face, because his face went completely calm and he brought his hands up to cup her elbows as he faced her. His thumbs traced little shivery circles into the soft skin of her inner arms as he said, “Ok. No dancing. I have a better idea, actually. Stay here, ok? I’ll be back in…forty seconds.” He gave her a tiny, Ben sized smile.

 

Rey watched him cross the room to the bar. Ben exchanged a few words with the bartender, who Rey had to admit was certainly earning his tips tonight. The bartender broke into a broad smile and nodded. He disappeared below the bar for a few moments, then came back up with a small bucket full of ice, a bottle of champagne, and a couple of glasses. Ben hefted it all easily and returned to her with his arms full.

 

“Ok, now listen. I want you to follow close behind me and try not to make eye contact with anyone we pass, ok? One of my mother's friends will try to talk to us if you do. And try not to look too sneaky.”

 

Ben’s face was 100% serious, so Rey bit back her smile and nodded. “Aye aye, captain.”

 

He turned to go, making a left out of the room and leading them down a hallway. Sure enough, they passed by a few curious onlookers before they made it into the kitchen, where the hired catering staff was far too busy to notice them. Ben led her through a door towards the back that led into _another_ hallway. When they reached the door at the end of it, Ben stepped back and jerked his chin towards it. “Open that for me, my little partner in crime.”

 

Rey did as she was told, revealing a steep set of stairs that stretched into darkness. “Are we committing a crime, then?”

 

“Let’s pretend we are. It’s more fun that way.”

 

Ben led the way up the stairs, Rey close behind. “The mayor has been throwing these parties since way before he was mayor. I used to sneak up here as a kid when I got bored.”

 

Once they reached the dark landing, Rey heard Ben set down the bucket of ice. After a few more moments of darkness, he flipped a switch and Rey found herself standing in a cozy, finished attic. There was an enormous overstuffed sectional, a pool table, and a minibar in the back that Ben immediately made his way toward. Rey perched on a barstool and watched as he unloaded his haul and began to pack the champagne into the bucket of ice. As he did, he pulled out a few cans that had been nestled inside. Ben held one out to her.

 

“You like these, right?” It was a local sour beer and it was, in fact, her favorite. And he must have remembered it from the groundbreaking, when Finn had brought her one.

 

She glanced up at him and tried not to feel overwhelmed by _that_ implication.

 

“I do like these, thank you.” She cracked it open and turned away a little so he wouldn’t see her take a long and unladylike guzzle. She heard Ben pop the champagne behind her. She was looking around the room with interest when he nudged a glass across the bar toward her before pouring one for himself.

 

“Are you trying to get me drunk, Solo?”

 

“No. But I _am_ trying to show you a good time. I’m just covering all my bases.”

 

Rey’s stomach erupted in butterflies at that sweet, frank admission. “I see. So…favorite beer, check. Champagne, check. Not dancing, check. You’re doing great so far.”

 

Ben snapped his fingers as if he’d just remembered something. “Wait here. I’ll be back in…seventy seconds.” He disappeared back down the stairs.

 

 _Odd little tic, that second counting thing,_ Rey thought fondly.

 

Sure enough, about a minute later Ben returned, this time with three platters of hors d’oeuvres balanced in his long arms.

 

_Lord help me. The man has brought me food. I am in so much trouble._

He set the plates down on the bar and looked at her, hands on his hips. “I’m really _not_ trying to get you drunk,” he said sheepishly, and Rey’s heart absolutely _ached_ with the sweetness of…all of it.

 

She stood from her stool and mirrored his stance with a shy smile. “I know. You’re trying to show me a good time. And you’re doing a really good job of it. Just so you know.”

 

Ben nodded, “Well…good. That’s…that’s really good.” And then she watched him do that thing where he fought back a smile. Why did he do that?

 

_Who does he think he’s going to disappoint by smiling?_

 

Ben gestured towards the food, “You eat. There’s more to this good time I’m trying to show you.”

 

The hors d’oeuvres were delicious, and Leia hadn’t been kidding about the crab puffs. Once the first bite passed her lips, Rey realized just how hungry she was. Her stomach had been too busy alternating between swoony dips because of Ben and nervous churning because she felt so completely out of place here to feel actual hunger.

 

Although…the nervous churning part hadn’t actually been so bad. Ben had been distracting enough that she hadn’t really had a chance to spiral into the usual crushing self-consciousness, at least not until he mentioned dancing. She looked over at Ben, who had busied himself at a dartboard on the wall. Had he done that on purpose? Because he’d known how much she’d been dreading this evening?

 

 _He’s trying,_ she thought again, and her heart stuttered.

 

Popping one last canapé into her mouth, she grabbed both their champagne glasses and joined him. He was sorting darts from a box he’d pulled from a nearby shelf, his big hands working quickly.

 

_I want those hands on me._

 

The thought startled her in its baldness, but that didn’t make it any less true. Ben had the sexiest hands she’d ever seen, somehow big and powerful and graceful all at once. If she was honest with herself, she’d been hot for his hands since she’d watched them on his steering wheel the day he drove her to the park.

 

She swallowed. “So, I take it this is our next activity?” She handed Ben his champagne class and he, in turn, handed her a handful of red darts.

 

“Correct. I’m going to teach you how to play darts.”

 

“And…why do you assume I don’t already know how to play?”

 

His brow quirked. “Do you?”

 

She smiled. “No.”

 

“Well you’re in luck, because I do.” Ben smirked.

 

He put his hands on her shoulders and propelled her gently across the room, then turned her to face the board. He took her champagne glass from her and set it down with his on a nearby table.

 

“Ok, let’s see where we stand here as far as natural talent goes,” Ben said officiously. Rey giggled. “No giggling, Rey. There’s no giggling in darts.” Which of course made her giggle harder.

 

“Ok, ok,” she said when Ben frowned at her. She took a dart in her hand and just…let it fly.

 

It landed with a thud in the drywall beneath the dartboard. Rey slapped her hand over her mouth to cover her gasping laugh. She turned to Ben, who was fighting his smile again and losing the battle _miserably._

 

“Ok, so, let’s…try that again.” Ben came around behind her and _oh my god he’s going to do that thing they do in the movies._ He stepped right up against her, so that she could feel the heat of his body from her shoulder blades to her knees. The feel of so much of him against her left her breathless, but she nearly fainted when he ran one hand down her arm until he reached her hand. His other arm came around her to place a new dart in her hand, and then it retreated to her waist, where it landed on the exposed skin there and burned like a brand. She could feel his breath gracing across the skin of her temple and _oh God_ she was going to burst into flame.

 

“Umm, Ben?” Rey murmured, not recognizing her the breathy voice that escaped her.

 

“Yes, Rey?” he rumbled, and she could feel his voice travel through her back and into her own chest.

 

“Are you trying to make me swoon?”

 

“Yes, Rey.”

 

She smiled. “It’s working.”

 

“I’m _very_ glad to hear it,” he said so sincerely that Rey felt the pull of his words between her thighs. She shifted, just slightly, as if she could relieve some pressure there, and Ben sucked in a harsh breath as her ass moved against his erection. Rey shuddered at the thought of him, hard and wanting, just a few layers of clothing away.

 

And then she felt his lips travel lightly down to her ear, then move down to the column of her neck, where he proceeded to place the gentlest, most achingly sweet kisses along the side of her throat. Her eyes fluttered closed as his thumb began tracing slow circles against the skin of her waist. When he used his teeth to gently graze the spot where her neck met her shoulder, her knees sagged a little and she felt his lips curve against her in a smile.

 

“You gonna throw that dart, Rey?” he asked, voice low and delicious.

 

“Mmm, yeah sure.” Rey lifted her arm parallel to the floor and opened her hand. The dart fell straight down to the carpet with a soft thud. “Darn. I guess I’m just no good at darts.”

 

“From where I’m standing, you’re a natural.” She giggled at that, too. She _liked_  it when Ben teased her.

 

Rey turned in his arms, allowing him to pull her tight against him. He didn’t hesitate, lowering his mouth to hers for a gentle, sipping kiss that nonetheless held an edge of hunger. She heard an embarrassing whimper escape her throat, but he seemed to love it. He pulled her hips tighter against his and rocked against her just a bit, as if to show her what she did to him. She opened her lips and sighed when his tongue stole in, sweeping against hers with such sweetness, Rey thought she melt into a goddamn puddle on the carpet of the mayor’s attic.

 

“ _Ahem._ ”

 

Rey froze, and Ben wrapped his arms around her protectively, turning her away from the door and giving it his back.

 

“I thought I’d find you up here. Didn’t expect you’d have company. That’s a first.”

 

Rey looked up into Ben’s face and saw him wince. He turned his head to look over his shoulder. “Dad,” he acknowledged.

 

Rey heard an amused chuckle, low like his son’s but raspier. “I’m the last person to interrupt a private moment…”

 

“And yet, here you are,” Ben grumbled, clenching Rey more tightly in his arms.

 

“…but you’re wanted downstairs. Your mother said something about a mother-son dance?”

 

Rey was still watching Ben’s face, saw his jaw clench in frustration. “Fine,” he ground out. “We’ll be right down.”

 

“Uh-huh. I’ll just be going then. Oh, and...Rey, is it? It’s a pleasure. Leia told me you make quite the impression. I look forward to seeing your actual face downstairs.”

 

Rey buried her head in Ben’s chest, utterly mortified.

 

“Bye, dad!” Ben shouted. Rey heard another low chuckle as he retreated down the stairs.

 

Ben didn’t let her go right away. His arms remained wrapped tightly around her, and he bent to drop a few lingering kisses on the crown of her head. Eventually, Rey worked up the courage to look up. Ben looked bemused at her reaction.

 

“Hey. It could have been worse. It could have been the mayor.”

 

Rey covered her face with her hands, which were wedged tightly between them. “Oh my god, Ben.” She felt him kiss her nose.

 

He loosened his hold on her and reached for her hand. “Come on. I promised the woman one dance. After that,” Ben paused, his eyes heated, “after that, we’ll finish this conversation.”

 


	8. The Hardworking Tuxedo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which, The Sex.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I've got good news and bad news. The good news is, SEX AHEAD (rating has been changed just in case)! The bad news is, this chapter feels a little clunky in the early part. It just felt best to power through. 
> 
> LEAVE ME COMMENTS! I LOVE THEM I LIVE FOR THEM!

The mayor’s house was grand, but not so grand that it had its own ballroom. It did, however, have an enormous great room that was just opposite the big front door. Ordinarily, Rey guessed it was the sort of room that was well decorated and rarely used. Tonight, however, the furniture had been removed and a dancefloor had been laid down. A string quartet had been given space in the corner of the room and instructed to play classical covers of pop standards from the sixties. The music and the dancers gave the whole room had a sort of Sinatra in the South vibe.

 

Ben gave Rey’s hand a squeeze and looked down at her. “This won’t take long. Don’t disappear, ok?” he said, not bothering to keep his voice down.

 

As if she was going _anywhere_ after that incredible interlude in the attic. Rey could only nod, feeling a little light headed from the look he was giving her. _We’re not done yet, not by a long shot,_ that look said.

 

Ben crossed the room to where the mayor was standing with his wife and Leia; the mayor began to tink his glass in order get the attention of everyone in the room.

 

“I know, I know,” he began once the room was sufficiently quiet, “I’ll keep this short and sweet. First of all, thank you all for coming out tonight. As most of you know, this party is an annual Organa tradition that my wife and I began nearly thirty years ago. Many of you have been attending since that very first party, back when we were all a lot younger and…well…rowdier.” The crowd laughed at that, and Rey tried to imagine this aging, glittering group of people back when they were in their prime, wearing the questionable fashions of the eighties.

 

“Tonight, I wanted to take a moment recognize our Guest of Honor, Ben Solo,” the mayor continued. Ben stood next to the mayor, hands clasped behind his back, his face serious and inscrutable. He nodded at the mayor.

  
“I’ve known Ben since he was a child, and I know I speak not just for myself, but his parents as well when I say I’m so impressed with the talented man he has become. You’re all going to be absolutely awestruck by his new amphitheare in Ahch-To Park. Let’s give him a round of applause.”

 

The crowd clapped enthusiastically. Rey kept her eyes on Ben, impressed with how utterly serene he looked, as though this sort of attention was an everyday event for him. Leia stood beside him, beaming and looking equally at ease.

 

This was their world, Rey realized forlornly. Leia and Ben were easy with the attention because they were born to it. Leia might be disarmingly candid with Rey, but she was still a world-class philanthropist and socialite. And Ben might be anti-social and bad at small talk, but he was still the rich scion of the Skywalker family, afforded every privilege that came with that role.

 

Rey felt the warm glow of Ben’s kisses begin to fade as the mayor instructed the band to play and Ben led his mother out to the dance floor along with a few other couples. He danced beautifully; he’d clearly been doing it for years. Leia smiled up at him, looking every inch the proud mother. Ben didn’t smile, of course. He wore that serious, detached face that had so disconcerted Rey when they first met. It was impossible to fathom what he was thinking.

 

Except…actually, it wasn’t. Not anymore, not for Rey. Ben and Leia were talking, murmuring quietly back and forth to each other about something that was giving Ben that telltale twich-tug under his right eye. He wasn’t pleased about the topic of discussion, Rey could tell. Leia’s expression never faltered. Her gaze swept the room periodically, brightening when they fell on someone she knew, which was often. But there was a brittleness about her eyes that belied her smile.

 

“Wonder what they’re fighting about this time,” a low voice mused just behind her shoulder. Rey flushed. She knew that voice. She turned around and found herself face to face with the aging but undeniably handsome Han Solo.

 

“Rey, I take it? I’m Han. Sorry about…” he fought a smile, looking uncannily like his son, “…earlier.”

 

Rey flushed, completely at a loss as to what to say. “Er, don’t worry about it.”

 

Han’s eyes swept over her face briefly before he broke into a grin. “I’ll be damned. I guess there’s more of me in Ben than either of us knew. You remind me of Leia when she was younger, back when she was the Princess of the city.”

 

Rey couldn’t help but smile. What had Maz called him? An inveterate flirt? “I’m hardly that,” she muttered. Han chuckled, then nodded to his wife and son on the dance floor.

 

“Leia taught Ben to dance when he was about eight years old. She was tired of having to drag me to the dancefloor only to have me step all over her toes.”

 

“They look wonderful together,” Rey said, dutifully.

 

Han snorted. “Like I said, they’re fighting. Leia gets this little vein that pokes out on her left temple…” Just then, Ben and Leia turned so that they caught Leia’s profile and, sure enough, there was a delicate, bluish vein just visible beneath her pale skin. Han chuckled ruefully. “Everytime.”

 

* * *

 

 

His mother, of course, had ambushed him. And honestly, he shouldn’t have been surprised. But like a moron he’d assumed that maybe, just maybe, she’d wanted this stupid mother-son dance because she really was proud of him. He’d been wrong.

 

“Lando tells me that Snoke was at the groundbreaking,” she began almost as soon as the music started.

 

Ben gritted his teeth, knowing this was going nowhere good. _Fucking Lando._ “He was. And?”

 

“What do you mean, “and”? That man is a monster, Ben. He represents everything that was corrupt and twisted about your grandfa—“

 

“Monster? He’s the only person who has ever even bothered to _talk_ about grandfather to me, mother.”

 

Leia sucked in a quiet, shocked breath. “Is _that_ what you were doing in the New York office for four years? Learning all about my _horrible_ father from his greatest enabler?”

 

Ben closed his eyes briefly, not wanting to cause a scene. Ordinarily, he wouldn’t have bothered disguising his fury. But Rey was here, watching him, and he just couldn’t bring himself to let her see the ugliness that lurked just beneath the surface of the pretty Skywalker-Solo family façade. Not yet. Not tonight.

 

“Snoke was good to me in New York. He taught me a lot. And unlike you and Luke, he never made me feel ashamed of who I am. He never shuddered in disgust anytime he saw the slightest resemblance to Anakin in me.”

 

Leia blinked rapidly a few times, though her smile never faltered. She looked away from him, her gaze scanning the room. “I never—it was never my intention to make you feel ashamed of yourself, Ben. And you certainly never disgusted me.”

 

“Forgive me if I find that hard to believe, mother. And I know for a fact it’s not true of Luke.”

 

The song was blessedly coming to an end. Ben guided them expertly toward the corner of the room where Rey now stood with Han. As the music ended, Ben let go of his mother’s hand allowed her to move to stand by her husband while he stepped back to Rey’s side. They all four clapped politely as the quartet nodded their pleased thanks to the room, then began a new song that brought more couples to the floor.

 

Ben felt Rey’s hand tangle in his own just long enough to give it a quick squeeze. She’d seen. Of course she had. What _hadn’t_ she seen so far, when it came to him? He felt an ache begin to bloom in his chest, a sort of tender affection that he’d never experienced before. God, he wanted to leave this place, with Rey, _now._

 

Leia seemed to know it wasn’t the moment to continue their conversation. She smiled at Rey instead.

 

“Rey, I see you’ve met my husband.” Han, tactful as always, snorted, making Rey blush fiercely.

  
“Yes, we just met.” Rey glanced up at Ben and then back to his mother. “You two danced so well together. I’m very impressed.”

 

“Thank you, dear.” Leia looked meaningfully at her husband. “I believe it’s time we called it a night, Han. Let’s leave the rest of the evening to the young people. Goodnight, Ben, sweetheart. Rey, I hope we’ll see you again soon.”

 

Ben just nodded stiffly, watching with relief as his parents disappeared into the crowd. He turned to Rey and found her looking up at him, brow creased in concern.

 

“Do you want to get some air or something?” she asked quietly, that sweet, warm hand reaching for his again. The sting of his mother’s criticism faded away the moment his eyes landed on her lush mouth and the memory of just how delicious it had tasted came rushing back. _God,_ she was beautiful. He was desperate to kiss her again, anxious to reassure himself that what had happened in the attic hadn’t been some sort of glorious fever dream.

 

He took a deep breath and shook his head. “No. What I want to do is take you home with me. Right now.

 

Rey’s lips parted in surprise, but he couldn’t help notice that her eyes darkened in what he _fervently_ hoped was a mirror of his own arousal. It was taking everything he had not to bend down and take her mouth again, there in front of God and the mayor and everybody.

 

Rey was silent just long enough for Ben to begin to worry that he’d overstepped. Shit, he’d just _propositioned_ her, he realized with alarm. Which was…well, it was exactly what he’d meant to do, actually, but what if he’d insulted her?

 

But then, because the universe was merciful, her mouth curved into a shy smile. “Well? What are you waiting for?”

 

_Thank Christ._

 

Without a backwards glance, Ben placed a firm hand on the small of Rey’s back and guided her out of the great room and into the foyer. “Did you bring anything other than…” Ben gestured towards the tiny clutch she held in one hand. She smiled down at it, then back up at him. “Nope.”

 

Ben took her empty hand in his. “Alright then. Let’s go.”

 

* * *

 

 

 _I’m going home with Ben Solo,_ Rey thought incredulously as they waited for the valet to bring his car around. It had been forward of him to ask, she supposed, but it hadn’t _felt_ it. Actually it felt rather…inevitable. Whatever was happening between them was like some sort of runaway train that had just been picking up speed for the past month, and now there was nothing either of them could do to slow it down or alter the course. Not that she wanted to.  

 

She shivered in anticipation. The evening was warm, but she was grateful nonetheless when Ben shrugged out of his tuxedo jacket and draped it over her shoulders. She smiled up at him goofily. How was it possible that he looked _even more_ handsome in his shirtsleeves? She watched, transfixed, as his gorgeous hands tugged his bowtie lose, leaving the ends hanging down on either side of his collar. He unbuttoned the top button of his shirt as well, and then worked at cuffing his sleeves back towards his elbows. The moon was nearly full, and it made the newly exposed skin of his forearms _glow_. He looked like an angel.

 

Without breaking eye contact with him, Rey snuggled into Ben’s jacket appreciatively, pulling one of the jacket’s lapels close to her nose and inhaling deeply. “I’ve always wanted a guy to use the whole give-her-your-jacket move on me, you know.”

 

Ben lifted a brow. “Is that right?”

 

“Oh yeah. And _this_ jacket...” Rey inhaled again, her eyes fluttering shut, “Mmmm, this jacket smells just…incredible.”

 

Ben let out a little growly noise at the back of his throat and stepped close to her. He took a lapel in each hand and pulled the coat more tightly around her and then pulled her towards him so that she was flush against his warm chest. His eyes glittered down at her in the darkness and suddenly _oh God_ she wished they weren’t standing outside the mayor’s house where anyone might see them, because the look he was giving her was making her insides feel like jiffy pop and soon she wouldn’t be responsible for her actions. Heedless of their surroundings, Ben leaned down and pressed his mouth against hers in a swift, chaste kiss that for all its sweetness robbed her completely of her breath.

 

He shook his head, bemused. “Sorry. I—I honestly couldn’t help myself.”

 

Ben straightened and brushed the hair from her face just as the valet pulled up with his obnoxious car. He opened her side first and helped her into the low seat before circling around and tipping the valet. Once he was settled into the driver’s side, he leaned over her, breath caressing her cheek, and buckled her in with such care that Rey felt her heart squeeze.

 

Ben left the top down, so Rey reached into her clutch for a couple of bobby pins and stacked her hair onto her head. As they made their way out of the residential streets of the mayor’s Buckhead neighborhood, it occurred to Rey that she had no idea where Ben lived. She’d guessed the West Side before, but she wouldn’t have been surprised if he lived in this area either.

 

But no, they took the downtown connector and headed south, eventually exiting near Memorial Drive. When Ben pulled up to a beautiful, but relatively humble historic house in Grant Park, probably built in the 1940’s or so, Rey couldn’t hide her surprise. She saw that he was amused with her reaction and she shrugged sheepishly.

 

“It’s not what I expected.”

 

He gave her one of his just-barely-there smiles. “Had you given much thought to where I lived?”

 

Rey blushed because, honestly, she _had._ It was hard to know Ben, or his work, and not wonder what sort of place would feel like home to him, where he would want to lay his head at the end of the day. Or at least, it had been hard for _Rey_ not to wonder.

 

“Let’s say I had more than a passing curiosity about it. You’re an architect after all, and people keep saying you’re, like, a pretty good one.”

 

He rolled his eyes good-naturedly. “Well, don’t get _too_ excited. It’s, um, it’s a work in progress. Parts of it are…well, you’ll see.”

 

Rey grinned, nearly bouncing in her seat with excitement. “Lead the way.”

 

Ben opened his door and got out. Rey took a deep breath, feeling as though something important were happening, and did the same.

 

And nearly fell flat on her face. Ben’s driveway was clearly unfinished. It was mostly dirt and gravel, and Rey was unused to her strappy shoes. She’d taken two overly confident steps before stumbling a little, catching herself on the hood of the car. Giggling, she tried to find purchase in the loose rocks and clumps of Georgia red clay.

 

Ben was rounding the car toward her in an instant. “Ha! That’s me, making a graceful entrance as usu—oh!” Rey’s breath left her body in a rush as Ben lifted her effortlessly in his arms, bridal style.

 

“Ben, what the—“

 

“Sorry. I should have warned you about the driveway.” He looked almost as surprised as she was to find her in his arms.

 

Rey’s heart was off like a shot, and they weren’t even inside the house yet.

 

Ben carried her easily up the porch steps, the whole thing feeling equal parts ridiculous and romantic, and set her down gently before turning to unlock the front door. She did her best to adjust her dress and her _breathing_ , which was suddenly a little labored.

 

He ushered her through the door, and she found herself in a dark foyer that smelled deliciously of sawdust and construction. A few moments later, Ben hit the lights and Rey blinked, taking in her surroundings.

 

Directly in front of her was a hallway flanked by a floating staircase. To her right was a beautifully decorated living room dominated by a massive, vintage looking oxblood leather couch, similar in style to the chairs in his office. There were a couple of matching midcentury upholstered chairs as well. The coffee table was made entirely of chic, clear Lucite. There were two built in bookshelves that flanked a big, beautiful stained glass picture window that was clearly original. On the adjacent wall was an enormous white and black abstract painting. The room was a study in contrasts. For every vintage piece, there was something urbane and modern. For every original feature, there was some design tweak that had clearly been made by Ben.

 

To her left, a large, open room remained dark. She was able to see that it contained an enormous table draped in a drop cloth. There were chairs pushed to the far side of that room that were also draped. A chandelier hung from the ceiling, but it, too, was covered. There was no surface flooring yet, just bare plywood. It would one day be a dining room, Rey guessed. The far wall had a stained glass window that mirrored the one in the living room. She could see where the kitchen lay in shadow just through another entryway in the adjoining wall.

 

She hadn’t taken a single step past the threshold, and she loved it already. She realized Ben was watching her intently.

 

He cleared his throat quietly. “This way.”

 

Ben led her down the hallway, past the staircase, and into… _oh._

 

The entire backside of the house was a studio. It must have once been two rooms, because there were two big vertical exposed wood beams that split the room that Rey thought were surely load-bearing. The entire room was painted white, but the ceiling, which was the same exposed wood at the two large posts, and the floor, which looked to be the original hardwood, warmed the space considerably. In style, it was the same as the living room: a balance of old and new, worn and clean, maximal and minimal. And, in a design flourish that Rey was coming to associate with Ben, the entire back wall was composed of floor to ceiling glass. It was too dark to see into the yard beyond, but Rey knew that the view, and the morning light, would be _stunning_ from this room.

 

The room seemed to function not just as a studio, but as a sort of den as well. It was more comfortably appointed than the living room in the front of the house, more lived in. There was a big, overstuffed couch and a coffee table covered in books. There was a bin for Ben’s plans in the corner, overflowing with rolls of drafting paper. On the opposite side, there was a corner with a treadmill and a rack of free weights. _Explains the biceps._ There were a few scattered pieces of artwork that Rey was fairly certain she would love, given the opportunity to study them.

 

Of course, Ben’s big, scarred wood drafting table sat in the back-center of the room, facing that wall of glass. She could imagine him sitting there, bent over his work, beautiful face furrowed in concentration. She wanted to find him there on a Sunday morning and distract him, climb into his lap, make him tell her what he was working on.

 

She felt arousal pool low in her belly. Ben was still watching her.

 

Feeling brave, she walked over to his drafting table and traced her fingers gently across the half-finished drawings there. She felt the heat radiating off his body when he joined her.

 

“What’s this?” she asked curiously. It was rough rendering of an A-framed structure with a spire on top. It almost looked like…”a church?”

 

Ben’s voice was low over her shoulder. “Honestly, I—I don’t know _what_ it is yet. It’s something I kind of…woke up needing to draw the other day.”

 

Ben reached around her and lifted the hand that still rested on the drawing. He gently pulled it towards him, spinning Rey around slowly and pulling her into his arms. Rey drew a shallow breath, feeling light-headed again. She looked into Ben’s eyes and swallowed. Being here, with him, still wearing his tuxedo coat and her fancy dress…it all felt a little surreal. _How did I get here?_

 

“I like your house, Ben.”

 

“I like having you _in_ my house, Rey.”

 

She smiled at that, and gathering her courage, lifted her face to his and pressed a gentle kiss to the underside of his jaw, his chin, and his throat. She let her tongue dart out to trace the spot just behind his ear. Ben let out a low growl that made her stomach do a somersault.

 

Without warning, Ben’s hands went to the backs of her thighs and lifted. He set her just on the edge of the drafting table and stood between her legs. He brought one hand up to her hair and deftly pulled out the bobby pins she’d used to secure it. Her waves fell down around her shoulders again.

 

“I like your hair down,” he shrugged, and then he kissed her.

 

It was a toe curlingly delicious kiss, the best so far in an evening already full of wonderful kisses. It was gentle but firm, restrained yet nowhere _near_ innocent. Ben held her face in both hands, one tangling in the hair just behind her ear and the other molded along her jaw. His mouth slanted over hers so that her bottom lip was fitted between his, and he sipped at it, pulled at it softly before running his tongue back and forth along it until Rey sighed and allowed her own tongue to reach out to meet his.

 

Rey brought her hands up to Ben’s chest and splayed her fingers across the finely woven fabric of his dress shirt. Something about his state of casual dishevelment was wildly erotic to her, and some semi-coherent part of her mind had the incredible idea of running her hands from Ben’s chest down and out to the outside of his arms. She followed the dips and ridges of his frankly indecent biceps until she reached the rolled cuffs at his elbows. From there, she ran her hands as lightly as she could along the exposed skin of his forearms all the way up to his thick, perfectly made wrists and then back again. She’d been dreaming about these forearms. The only thing she’d fantasized about more were those hands of his. She’d get to those.

 

He was still kissing her, his mouth growing more insistent. One hand drifted down to her waist and slipped beneath his jacket, seeking that exposed patch of skin above her hip. The moment his big fingers made contact there, Rey got a little jolt from the heat of it.

 

“Ticklish? You weren’t before…” he said against her cheek.

 

“It’s not that,” she gasped. “You hand is just…it’s so _hot_.” _Jesus Christ, I sound wrecked._

 

Ben must have thought so too, because he pulled away from her mouth, breathing hard, and rested his forehead on hers for a moment. He was close enough to her that she could feel the hot, straining ridge of him against her thigh and realized that Ben Solo was…well, it seemed like he was _endowed_. Rey didn’t have a great wealth of experience with men; she was no virgin, but the handful of men she’d been with had been short-lived relationships or one-night stands. From the, ahem, _feel_ of things, Ben would be the biggest man she’d ever had.

 

“I have a confession to make,” he panted. “I…fuck, Rey, I dreamt of you, here, on this desk.”

 

Rey’s belly was suddenly _molten._ “You mean…like…I was…“

 

“I dreamt I fucked you on this drafting table, yes.” His voice was low and unabashed and sexy as _fuck_.

 

Well. If she hadn’t been soaking wet before, she sure as shit was now. And she was _burning_ with curiosity.

 

“You had a dream about me?” Breathless. She was _completely_ breathless.

 

“No. No, Rey. I’ve had a _dozen_ dreams about you. I’ve had you in just about every possible way at this point, in my dreams.” He said it like an apology. He pulled away to look her in the eye, wincing.

 

“Listen, I don’t—I don’t expect anything from you tonight, just so you know, aside from your company for as long as you’re willing to share it with me. I’m…I mean, it’s pretty clear I’m about as into you as I can possibly be, and that’s not going to end come morning.”

 

He swallowed and cleared his throat, his dark eyes burning into hers. “I’m trying to say—I’m telling you that I know things have escalated quickly. But somehow, for me…this has been a long time coming.”

 

Rey allowed herself to feel relief at his words. Not because he was giving her an out as far as the sex went. No, she already knew she was going to sleep with Ben tonight (preferably soon, before she combusted). But the knowledge that this intense magnetism she’d been feeling toward him wasn’t one-sided…it was the best thing he could have said in the moment.

 

“You’re not alone. It’s been a long time coming for me, too,” she whispered. “It’s a little—it’s a little scary for me. I don’t have a lot of people I can—who are—“

 

“Don’t be afraid, I feel it too,” he said, and he kissed her mouth again. But he didn’t stay there long, dragging his lips down her throat to her collarbone, and then further. His kisses became lingering and open-mouthed as he trailed a hot path through the valley between her breasts.

 

Rey was gasping now, letting out little mewls of pleasure whenever Ben grazed her skin with his teeth. She trailed a hand from his chest down to his waist, pausing for a moment before she dipped lower to cradle his erection in her hand. Ben choked and then let out a sort of growling whimper. Rey’s insides glowed at that, awed that she could affect him so.

 

“Ben,” she murmured, “take me to your bedroom?”

 

She should have known he’d just pick her up again. But this time her legs were around his waist and his hands were holding her ass. Rey buried her head his Ben’s neck, breathing in that gorgeous cologne and nibbling at his earlobe.

 

“ _Jesus_ , Rey,” she heard him rasp.

 

He carried her up the stairs as though she was something precious, nudging aside his jacket with his chin as he climbed so that he could pepper kisses on the round of her shoulder.

 

And then Ben was setting Rey down on the edge of his bed with a gentleness that was almost frightening in its implications. The scent of his bedding billowed around her in an intoxicating cloud and…wait, where did Ben go?

 

“Ben?”

 

“I’m here, Rey,” came his voice from a corner of the room, low and full of promise.

 

“Uh… _why_ are you over there? Instead of here?”

 

She heard him chuckle and she could have _bathed_ in the sound. “Just give me a second, gorgeous.”

 

_Gorgeous. He called me beautiful, twice, and gorgeous, too._

She heard a soft whirring sound above her and she looked up to see some sort of screen retracting from an enormous skylight over the bed. That same big, silver moon that had kissed Ben’s skin outside the mayor’s house now illuminated his bedroom with soft, glowing light.

 

Rey gave a little huff of incredulous laughter.

 

“You don’t like it?” Ben was standing in front of her again.

 

“I love it. I’m just reflecting on all the smooth moves you’ve shown tonight, ladykiller. And who knew mean, scary Ben Solo was hiding this bachelor pad of seduction.”

 

Ben knelt in front of her and quirked a brow before lifting the hem of her dress and tossing it above her knees. He ran a hand down each calf until he reached her ankles and tugged off her heels. Rey thought for a moment she might faint.

 

“You’re the first woman I’ve ever brought here, actually.” He said it quietly, but without self-consciousness. “I don’t traditionally do…sleepovers.”

 

“Oh.” What else could she say to _that_?

 

He leaned forward and pushed his jacket down her arms.

 

“And as for any supposed smooth moves you may have seen from me tonight…” he dropped a kiss on her shoulder, “…I think we both know that the tux was doing most of the work.”

 

Ben sat back and looked at her intently, his eyes reflecting the silver of the moonlight. He was waiting, allowing her to make the next move. So she did.

 

“Hmm. You might have a point there, Solo.” She leaned forward and pushed his suspenders off his shoulders before applying herself to the buttons of his shirt.

 

“I suppose the only way to be sure is to see how well you do _without_ the tux.”

 

* * *

 

 

Ben couldn’t remember anything feeling so _right_ as watching Rey wander through his house, wrapped in his jacket, keen eyes roving over every detail. His chest had nearly burst with delight when he saw her sizing up the load bearing posts in his studio, her eyes scanning up to the joists like some tetchy building inspector. She was so fucking perfect that he found himself jittery with the excitement of having her all to himself and terrified that he would do something to scare her off.

 

To that end, he’d been trying very hard _not_ to lift her up against said load bearing post and bury himself so deep inside her that she’d be ruined for any other man.

 

That…probably wouldn’t be a chill move.

 

But the sight of her at his drafting table brought back every scorching detail of that damn dream and he’d gone hard as a spike and then she’d _asked him_ , the beautiful siren, to take her to his bedroom.

 

And now her slender fingers were making steady progress down his shirtfront.

 

He was going to make this _so good_ for her.

 

She finished unbuttoning his shirt and pulled it from his trousers. He shrugged it off and swelled with pure masculine pride when her eyes wandered appreciatively over his chest and torso. Her hands followed, tracing hot patterns on his skin. She watched, fascinated, as her touch drew little flexes and spasms. He nearly burst into flame when she leaned forward and placed a shy, kittenish lick to his nipple.

 

With a growl, he grabbed her by the underside of her thighs and pulled her to the very edge of the mattress so that he was kneeling between her spread knees. He surged forward to take her mouth in a searing kiss. It had none of the restraint of their earlier kisses, and Ben took advantage of Rey’s moan of surprise to explore her sweet mouth with his tongue. Rey’s hands snaked up to his hair and buried themselves tightly, her little tugs egging him on when he began to grind against her center. He could feel her heat through her skirts and _God_ he couldn’t wait to taste her there.

 

But there were other places to taste first. Like those perfect, perky breasts that had been tempting him all night. With a grunt, he pulled away from her mouth and began to tug her skirt up. Rey caught on and lifted herself so that he could get the fabric up around her waist, and then her clever hands yanked down a zipper at the hip before grabbing the whole thing and pulling it over her head. She let it float to the floor. For a moment, Ben could only stare.

 

 _Christ above._ Now she was sitting in front of him in nothing but a scrap of black lace that _barely_ passed for panties. Her breasts sat high and firm and were tipped with rosy, puckered nipples that were clearly just _aching_ to be sucked. So suck he did. He laved and sucked at each breast until Rey was squirming so deliciously that Ben thought he might come just from the sight of it. She was breathing hard, hands tangled in his hair, meeting the rocking thrusts of his hips with her own. _Fuck_ , she was so stunningly _responsive_ to him it was _unreal._

 

“ _Ben,”_ she whispered, one hand drifting down to his waistband, “ _please…”_

“I’ve got you, Rey,” he panted, “I’ve got you, gorgeous.”

 

He pulled her into his arms again, her legs straddling his waist, and stood so that he could lower them both to the center of the bed. He caged her body with his, kissing a path from her ear down to her breasts and back up again. His thigh found its way between her legs and nudged against her core. She rocked against him as her hands fumbled with the complicated closure of his tux pants.

 

He took pity on them both and stood to remove the rest of his clothes. When he shucked off his briefs, Rey met the sight of him with hungry eyes that nearly unmanned him right then and there. He wasn’t going to last long, not with her looking at him like that. He needed to make her come first.

 

He lowered himself to the bed again and began blazing a path of discovery with his mouth that trailed across her ribs down to her navel, and back and forth between both of Rey’s sweet little hipbones. When he reached her panties, he tugged them down her legs and threw them carelessly on the floor before settling himself between her slim thighs.

 

Rey went a little stiff on the bed, her knees were tightly clenched against Ben’s shoulders. Ben stroked the outsides of her thighs soothingly while dropping kisses along the tender flesh of their insides.

 

“Rey…sweetheart, is this ok?”

 

“Y-yes, I just—I’ve never…”

 

Well that…surprised him. It seemed impossible that no one had ever gone down on her before. God, Rey’s long legs seemed to have been  _made_ to be thrown over his shoulders.

 

“Will you let me, Rey? Let me make you feel good, please? Let me make you come with my mouth.”

 

Rey whimpered and arched against the mattress. God she was _wrecked_ , and it was wrecking him too. Shakily, she opened her legs for him and he groaned at the vision before him. Her sweet, pink cunt was glistening with arousal, and when he brought his hand up to stroke her gently, his fingers came away _drenched._ She shuddered. Fuck, he shuddered too. He rutted against the mattress beneath him, searching for some relief for his frankly _weeping_ erection.

 

And then he couldn’t stop himself, he just had to _devour_ her. His thumbs parted her gently and his tongue found her clit immediately. He wanted, _needed_ her to come undone. He needed her to know what he could to for her.

 

Rey’s back bowed gracefully, her head jerking backwards as she keened. The sound of her moan was so beautiful that Ben doubled down his efforts, desperate to hear more. And when he brought first one, then two fingers to her slick entrance and found that hot, swollen spot inside, Rey cried out _his name_ and clenched around his fingers. He eased her through her climax, pressing gently against her inner wall with the pads of his fingers and lapping at her clit until _holy FUCK,_ he felt her clench _again_ and she let out a sharp _OH!_ of surprise as she fell apart once more.

 

Knowing Rey was likely oversensitive now, Ben backed off and looked up at her face. His heart wrenched at the sight, hair a tangled mess, chest heaving, a look of blissful confusion on her face.

 

“Twice…” she gasped, raising her head to look at him, “…twice is…new.”

 

Ben didn’t even fight his grin. He was fucking soaring.

 

“Ben…come here…I want you up here.”

 

He scrambled up to her like an eager puppy, his cock rock hard and throbbing. Her legs went around him instantly, her hips canting towards him with need. He held himself above her with one arm and used the other to guide himself to her entrance. The first touch of his sensitive head against her swollen, wet core had him seeing stars.

 

Gritting his teeth, he forced himself to go slowly, watching her face for any sign of discomfort. He knew he wasn’t small.

 

Rey wasn’t having it. “Ben, come on, I won’t break,” she said with a breathy smile.

 

That was the end of Ben Solo’s self-control. He thrust the rest of his length into her all at once, loving the way Rey’s eyelids fluttered. She was so wet, so hot and ready for him that he was able to set an insistent pace that soon had him babbling like he’d _never_ done before.

 

“So good, Rey. You’re so perfect. _Fuck, ah_ —you feel like fucking _heaven_ and I’m going to come so hard for you.”

 

Rey locked her legs tighter around him and let her hands roam over his back, his ass, up to his shoulders, into his hair. Her hands were everywhere, her little mewls of pleasure enflaming him beyond reason.

 

“You’re beautiful, do you know that? _oh Christ,_ you’re so goddamn beautiful Rey…”

 

He came so hard that his vision tunneled and he groaned into Rey’s neck, her name falling from his mouth like a prayer. He thrust into her a few more times, realizing hazily that she was clenching around him again.

 

When their breathing had calmed and their hearts slowed, Ben realized that he had Rey wrapped in a iron-like hold, his arms like steel bands around her shoulders and her waist. He loosened his grip and rolled so that he was on his back and she was tucked into his side. Rey reached an arm out to pull the comforter around them both.

 

They fell asleep in each other’s arms, bathed in moonlight.  


	9. Eggs AND Pancakes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Rey spends the day with Ben.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi again! I couldn't bear to tear them apart yet, you guys. Enjoy the Nice Feels in this update, because angst is on the horizon. Also, the Carrying Kink continues thanks IsobelBloom and her enthusiasm for it ;)

Rey woke with a start, eyes snapping open and sweeping around the strange room. She knew about four seconds of confused panic before she registered the thick arm wrapped around her middle and the scorching memories of the night before came rushing back to her.

 

Ben’s room. She was in Ben’s room, in Ben’s bed, in Ben’s arms. Naked.

 

She blushed, the soft pillow cooling her hot cheek. She lay still for a moment, not wanting to wake Ben, which…apparently she needn’t have worried about. His body was curved heavily around her, one arm a band of steel around her waist while the other snaked under her neck and disappeared under her pillow. She could feel his lips resting hotly against her shoulder, as though he’d fallen asleep kissing her there, and one of his long legs tucked between her knees. And he was snoring ever so slightly, the gentle rumble of it vibrating against her back. He didn’t seem likely to wake any time soon.

 

Rey closed her eyes and bit her lip against the heady grin that threatened to crack her face into pieces. Last night had been so _lovely._ Rey felt her belly clench at the memory of Ben’s dark head between her thighs, remembering the way his tongue had danced against her so boldly. And when he’d moved inside her… _God_ , it had been frantic and rushed but _oh,_ so _perfect_. She’d never felt more beautiful, listening to him praise her through clenched teeth as he abandoned his tightly held control and bared himself to her with every honest, lusty thrust.

 

She was wet again just thinking about it, and though she was feeling a certain amount of morning after shyness, a wanton part of her contemplated grinding back against Ben’s groin until he woke and took her again.

 

Unfortunately, nature was calling and she couldn’t pretend she didn’t have a mild case of morning breath. Carefully, Rey untangled herself from Ben’s big body, snickering when he let out a low, sleepy growl of protest, hand tightening just slightly against her retreating hip before he released her.

 

He kept on snoring peacefully, his face more relaxed than Rey had ever seen it. He looked young and beautiful, like some prince out of a fairytale with his pale skin and raven hair. She let her eyes travel over his body, across the column of his neck down to where it met his broad shoulders. His arms were, as ever, mouthwatering from broad bicep to thick wrist. But his chest had come as a welcome surprise last night. She’d known he was big and broad but _damn._ Rey didn’t think she would ever forget the image of Ben Solo kneeling in front of her shirtless in a pair of black tuxedo pants, white suspenders hanging from his hips.

 

Rey’s eyes traveled lower, eyes roving over the faint line of dark hair that began at his navel and disappeared beneath the bedsheet. She had the urge to run her hand down one of his lean hips, dragging the sheet away and exposing a long stretch of powerful, hair-dusted thigh…

 

She shook herself. _Right. Bathroom._

Rey grabbed Ben’s dress shirt from the floor at the foot of the bed and pulled it on, reveling in the lingering scent of his cologne. She padded quietly to the en suite, closing the door behind her with a soft click and flipping on the lights.

 

_Fuck. Me._

 

If there’d been any doubt in Rey’s mind that she was _gone_ for Ben Solo—if the tuxedo and the darts and the calling her beautiful and the amazing house and the three orgasms hadn’t convinced her already that she was an absolute puddle of lust for him…

 

Well, then, his bathroom would have done the trick.

 

A wide, granite sink with a graduated basin floated in front of a big, backlit mirror. Actually, the mirror itself was a wonder, Rey’s reflection rendered in soft, white light that was both flattering _and_ illuminating. Opposite was a massive walk in shower with spotless glass walls and an enormous rain effect showerhead flanked by two smaller showerheads on the adjacent walls. And next to the shower, God bless America, was the biggest tub Rey had ever seen.

 

She walked over to it and peered in, eyes widening at the little jets set at intervals along the walls. It would take an obscene amount of water to fill the thing, Rey knew. But _oh_ , she’d always loved long, hot baths. She’d never taken one until she settled at Aunt Bea’s house, and even then they’d been a rare luxury. Desert people didn’t waste water.

 

Nature was calling a little more insistently now. Once she’d relieved herself, she walked to the mirror for a closer inspection of her appearance. She was pleased to find that her makeup hadn’t smeared into raccoon eyes, as she’d feared. Whatever primer Finn had used on her had allowed the shadow and eyeliner to just sort of…fade. Her hair was a tangled mess, but in a good way, maybe? She rather liked own wild it was; it was evidence of a night well spent.

 

Speaking of which, her lips looked swollen and her eyes were bright and…yep, there was one faint hickie on her right collarbone. _Ben Solo’s mouth did that,_ she thought with something like wonder.

 

Rey washed her face at the sink and worked a glob of toothpaste around her teeth with her index finger. She ran a hand through her wild hair and decided to leave it. She gave the mirror one last shrug before stepping out into the quiet bedroom. Ben hadn’t moved.

 

Rey smiled. Perhaps a little exploring was in order.

 

She tiptoed downstairs and into Ben’s study to find that she had indeed been right about the view.

 

The entire room was suffused with the hazy blue of the predawn sky and _what time was it, anyway._ She had a clear view of Ben’s backyard, which was as tastefully designed as the rest of the house, and much less rigidly organized than she expected. Blue hydrangea bushes created a boundary at the far side of the yard, beyond which a pretty copse of trees had been left to their own devices. A tall, dark slatted fence had been erected on the right and left perimeters, across which it looked as though Ben had begun to train yellow Lady Banks’ roses. _Rather a romantic choice,_ Rey mused. The broad expanse of fescue was closely shorn, nearly like a golf green. Toward the back was a beautifully built stone fire pit and a set of Adirondack chairs. The yard was surprisingly simple and functional and altogether unpretentious.

 

 _Completely unlike its owner_ , Rey thought with a smile.

 

Her gaze wandered around the room until it landed on her clutch. It was sitting on the couch where she’d set it down last night before things had taken a heated turn. She dug out her phone and winced. Three missed calls from Finn, and then a volley of text messages.

 

**_Hey, did you leave the party?_ **

****

**_Did you leave the party with BEN SOLO?!?!_ **

****

And then, sent just twenty minutes ago, at 7:00AM on the dot:

 

**_Text me in an hour or I’m going to assume that hot Disney villain did something unspeakable to you last night and send Poe to break down his door._ **

Yikes. She’d have to placate him with the promise of lurid details.

 

 **_Oh, he did a LOT of unspeakable things to me last night_ ** **_J._ **

 

Rey hit send before she could change her mind, her cheeks already burning with embarrassment. Finn, bless him, must have been waiting by his phone, because three little dots appeared immediately. Rey braced herself and her friend didn’t disappoint. He responded immediately with a string of suggestive emojis followed by strict orders to tell him everything tomorrow night over dinner.

 

She clicked her screen off and tucked the phone back into her purse, smiling. Plopping down on the couch and tucking her bare legs beneath her, Rey turned so that she could watch the sky go from dark blue to light.

 

The Morning After…this was usually the part where Rey began to overthink things, to throw up walls, to retreat in on herself. Though Rey liked sex as much as the next lusty twenty-something, the aftermath always left her feeling uncharacteristically exposed, and she most certainly _did not_ like that. Had never liked it.

 

Abandonment issues. Fear of intimacy. Commitment-phobia. Rey had read enough smug self-help books to know she was carrying a lot of baggage from her childhood. She’d never really let it bother her. She was young, she figured, and she would work it all out in her own time. So what if she’d chased off every guy that had taken a romantic interest in her since she graduated college? So what if she wasn’t ready to share her sad, pitiful history with pretty much anyone? For years, Rey had had nothing but her own hard won dignity. And since it was difficult to remain dignified when someone began to look at you with _pity,_ she elected to keep her little desert rat sob story to herself, thank you very much.

 

And yet, there was no denying the crippling loneliness that resulted from keeping so much of herself a secret from everyone else. It had been even worse before Finn had taken her under his wing; she’d managed to tell him almost everything. It had been like eating burning hot coals, but still, she’d managed. And the experience had taught her that maybe, _maybe,_ she could be the kind of person who was _good_ at connection. She’d just never been given much opportunity to try...

 

Ben, though. Ben felt different. Ben was as drawn to her as she was to him, and sometimes it felt as though they understood each other on an almost elemental level. He’d seen her insecurities from the start, hadn’t he? And in his impatient, ham-fisted way, he’d told her they were baseless. Illogical. Dumb. Ben Solo had taken one look at her baggage and fucking _shrugged,_ unimpressed. And fuck if that hadn’t felt _good._

 

Maybe, eventually…she could tell Ben the _really_ ugly stuff. Maybe he’d shrug at that, too.

 

“Good morning.”

 

Rey jumped in her seat, head whipping around to find Ben standing in the entryway, looking sleepy and grumpy and hot as hell in a pair of low-slung sweatpants. He was studying her with those serious, intense eyes of his, looking wary. Rey felt a shy smile spread across her face. _He’s such a fucking grouch,_ she thought fondly.

 

“Morning. I wanted to see your yard. It was too dark last night.”

 

Ben nodded, eyes never leaving hers. He cleared his throat. “Can I make you some coffee or something?”

 

Rey shook her head. “That’s ok. I’m more of a tea person.”

 

“I have that too.”

 

“Oh, well, that would be lovely then.”

 

Ben nodded again, but didn’t move toward the kitchen. Instead, he scrubbed a hand through his hair in a gesture that Rey was coming to realize meant he was nervous or frustrated. Or both. Rey felt a throb of apprehension in her gut.

 

“Ben, what’s wrong?”

 

He looked at her for a moment longer and then suddenly crossed the room to her in a few swift strides. He grabbed her hands and pulled her to her feet so quickly that the breath rushed out of her. He placed her hands around his neck and paused for the barest moment, looking questioningly into her eyes, before he dropped his mouth to hers in a soft, searching kiss.

 

Rey’s legs buckled at the sudden, uncertain sweetness of it, but Ben held her firmly around her waist. It was still so new, kissing him, new enough to make her feel as breathless and nervy as she had in the mayor’s attic. After a moment, he pulled back and looked at her again, this time with a heat that made her insides tumble. She felt faint in the most delicious way.

 

“I thought you’d left,” he said quietly, a ghost of a smile playing about his mouth.

 

_Oh. OH._

Rey slowly shook her head, her shy smile returning.

 

He let out a long breath, then, “I’m glad you didn’t. I want you here.”

 

 _Lord_ what he could do to her with just a few vulnerable, possessive words. She stretched against him, catlike, scratching her hands through the hair at the nape of his neck and sighing her contentment into his chest. She felt him stirring against her stomach.

 

“Do you have anywhere else to be today?” He asked this against her temple, his voice low, lips brushing back and forth above her brow.

 

“No. No plans.” Her voice came out a little thick.

 

“Then I intend to keep you, unless you have any objections.” His hands traveled down to the outside of her thighs and snaked beneath the dress shirt she wore, smoothing up over her hips and settling at her waist. Her lack of panties made it feel all the more naughty and delicious.

 

“No objections,” she said shakily.

 

“Mmmm,” Ben hummed against her earlobe. “Good. Because I wasn’t done with you, you know. I had every intention of waking you up with my mouth, gorgeous. There will be no more sneaking off, is that understood?”

 

The sternness in his voice made Rey’s thighs clench together involuntarily. She nodded.

 

“Alright then, back to bed.” And with that, he hefted her bare behind into his arms and wrapped her legs around his waist. She gasped when she felt the heat of his firm stomach against her core. He pressed kisses to her neck as he carried her up the stairs.

 

“You know I can walk, right?” Rey asked with a breathless laugh.

 

“Why would I ever let you when I could be carrying you just like this?”

 

She didn’t have an answer for that.

 

By the time they made it to Ben’s bedroom, they were both panting. Ben laid her down on her back and caged her in with his big body. He proceeded to drop a flurry of tiny, nipping kisses along her neck and the open collar of his dress shirt before he raised up to look at her bashfully.

 

“What? What’s wrong?” Rey asked, certain that if he stopped now she would die.

 

“I just…last night we didn’t use any…I didn’t use a condom.”

 

Rey’s eyes widened, shocked at herself for forgetting. She’d never, _never_ , forgotten to use a condom with a new sexual partner.

 

Her insides squirmed uncomfortably, but she forced herself not to look away from him. She was an adult, after all. She could talk about sex.

 

“I’m on the pill. And I’m clean. I’m just—I’m sorry I forgot...”

 

Ben shook his head quickly. “No, no. It’s my fault. I’m clean too, got tested just last month.” His mouth quirked up in a wry smile. “I guess I got a little carried away last night. I’ve never done that before.”

 

Rey could only nod, relieved when Ben bent to continue kissing her throat. He brought his hands up and undid a couple of the buttons of his shirt. “I like you in this. Makes me hard.” _Fuck,_ he made her hot when he said shit like that.

 

He spread the shirt away from her breasts and, without preamble, dove down to take a taut nipple into his mouth. He gave it a hot, firm suck and Rey arched immediately.

 

Ben groaned and brought a hand up to tease the other nipple with clever fingers. “God, you’re so fucking responsive, Rey. You make me feel like a fucking king, you know that?” He flattened his tongue and ran it across her breast. Rey whimpered at the sensation, dirty and wonderful. She wrapped her legs around his hips and ground against his erection mindlessly, enjoying the noises it coaxed from Ben’s throat. And then she couldn’t take it anymore, she needed _more, now, harder._

 

She pushed against his shoulders and twisted her hips until Ben let her flip him onto his back. She rocked against him a few times before losing patience with the fabric between them. She lifted herself up slightly and tugged his sweatpants away from the hot, _thick_ column of him, allowing him to kick the offending garment the rest of the way off before she lowered herself again. They both groaned at the exquisite feeling of hot and hard meeting hot and wet. Rey ground against him, fucking herself against the length of him and trembling at the delicious pressure against her clit.

 

“That’s it. That’s it, gorgeous. Take what you need. _God_ , you’re beautiful. I could watch you work me like this forever.” His words settled hotly in her belly, between her legs, throbbed against her nipples. She’d never been with a man who said such naughty, magnificent things…

 

She reached between them and guided him to her entrance. They watched each other as she lowered herself slowly onto him, his hot gaze making her pant and writhe as she worked each inch into her tight heat. Her eyes fluttered shut when he was seated fully within her, and for a moment she remained still, muscles clenching, her body getting used to his size again. _Fuck, he’s big._

 

“Talk to me, Rey. Tell me how it feels.”

 

Rey whimpered and began to rock just slightly, just enough to feel him shifting within her. She rotated her hips, grinding her clit down on his pubic bone.

  
“You feel,” she gasped, “you feel so _hot_ inside me. It’s like you’re burning me up—filling me—and it’s so—“ she choked as Ben thrust up into her. “Oh _God,_ Ben. I can’t—I can’t—“

 

“You can.” His voice was hot gravel. “Take what you need, baby. Come on and bounce on me.”

 

So she did. Rey began to lift herself off of Ben a few inches as a time and then roll her hips back down to maintain pressure on her clit. Eventually, she found a rhythm that seemed to drive Ben wild, his groans were low and continuous, peppered with little gasping words of encouragement.

 

“Yes, oh _God,_ Rey. Come on baby, I want you to come around me. I wanna feel you lose it. That’s right, gorgeous, you’re going to fall apart _all_ around me, aren’t you? _Christ_ , you’re so sweet, so perfect.”

 

Rey was bouncing faster now, so close to her peak and yet in desperately in need of…something to…

  
“Ben, touch me. Please, touch me.”

 

Ben hissed. “Anything. Anything you want, gorgeous.” And he reached one hand up to pluck at a flushed nipple while the other found its way to the point where their bodies were joined. He placed a big, rough, merciless thumb against her clit and pressed down firmly before he began to stroke in tight, tiny circles.

 

It didn’t take long after that. The feel of Ben’s cock deep inside her, the head of him hitting that sweet spot against her wall, and the _hard_ pressure against her clit had her seeing stars. She fell forward and braced her hands against Ben’s chest as she came, clenching rapidly around him. He kept up his deep thrusts and rubbed her clit faster as she spasmed, her hips jerking slightly at the sensation.

 

And Ben was soon to follow. “Rey, I—oh god, _yes.”_ He came with equal force, his hands coming to clutch hard at her hips as he emptied himself inside her.

 

Rey collapsed on Ben’s chest and listened to their heartbeats slow. He was murmuring sweet, lovely things into her ear while he stroked her bare back beneath his dress shirt.

 

“I think you’ve ruined me, gorgeous,” he mumbled.

 

Rey smiled into Ben’s neck, but she didn’t miss the barest hint of real concern in his words.

 

* * *

 

For a handful of minutes after he came, Ben’s brain was pleasurably blank. His world consisted of nothing but the weight of Rey’s body on top of him, the feel of her skin under his palms, and the white noise of sated male sex drive that drowned out everything else.

 

Gradually, higher brain function returned. He realized Rey had been silent for minutes now.

 

“Rey?”

 

“Hmm?” She sounded half-asleep. In fact, as he looked down at her, she raised up a little and let out an adorable, kittenish yawn. He watched with fierce affection as she rested her chin on fists she stacked his chest. He brushed her tangled hair away from her face, his chest squeezing at the sight of her unguarded smile.

 

 _She stayed,_ he reminded himself with relief, _she didn’t leave, she stayed. She put on your shirt and she sat on your couch and she watched the sunrise from your studio. You don’t scare her._

 

“Eggs or pancakes?” he asked. He watched as her smile widened into a grin.

 

“You’re going to make me breakfast, Solo?”

 

“I thought I might, yeah,” he murmured, brushing a kiss against her hair. “I’m starving, and you didn’t eat much last night at the party.”

 

As if on cue, Rey’s stomach gave an audible rumble. She bit her lip in embarrassment. “I guess you better make me both, then?” Ben barked out a laugh at that, and Rey slapped him on the chest. “Don’t laugh at my healthy appetite, you jerk.”

 

Smirking, he rolled them both over and pinned her arms against the mattress by her head. She squirmed against him adorably, frowning and giggling in equal measure.

 

“I…like…your…appetite,” he said, punctuating every word with a kiss along her jaw. “I…like…every…thing…about…you.” He finished with a long, slow kiss that had him growing hard again. He pulled away with a quiet groan before he could get distracted again. He yanked his sweats back on and held out a hand to Rey.

 

“Come on, you can be my sous chef.”

 

Thirty minutes later, Ben presented Rey with a plate of scrambled eggs, bacon and fluffy pancakes. She sat in his half-finished kitchen, legs swinging from a barstool tucked up to the granite island, looking _quite_ impressed. She set down her mug of tea and quirked an eye at him.

 

“This counts as a ladykiller move, you know. Cooking for me whilst shirtless…” her let her eyes rove over his chest, “…top marks.”

 

He felt himself flush a little at her praise. He still wasn’t used to it. The sort of women he usually cavorted with limited their compliments to his car and his cock.

 

Rey was already digging in, her eyes closing in appreciation while she chewed a bite of pancake. Before he could stop himself, he moved around the island and bent to kiss the corner of her mouth, licking at the errant drop of syrup there. She smiled up at him, so beautiful that his insides ached. He moved away to grab his own plate before settling down next to her. She scooted her stool closer to him so that she could tangle one of her legs around his and kept eating.  

 

When they’d both finished, Rey stretched her arms above her head and asked, “So. You’ve got me for the day. Aside from…” she _blushed_ , God bless her, “…you know…what is it that you plan on doing with me?”

 

Ben regarded her solemnly. “Oh I plan on doing a lot more the “you know”, actually. That’s why I’m feeding you, you’re going to need your strength.”

 

“Ben!” Lord, she was cute when she was embarrassed.

 

 _Fine,_ he thought with a twinge of apprehension, _cards on the table…_

 

“Ok, ok. First, I’m going to get you into the shower with me. I have an amazing shower, and you’re going to love it. Then I’m going to wrap you in my bathrobe and we’re going to do the Sunday crossword. Then I’m going to get between those legs of yours again with my mouth, because, frankly, watching you fall apart on my tongue last night was one of the hottest things I’ve ever seen and I’d like a repeat performance. And then you can tell me which unmissable television show I’ve been missing and we’ll watch an entire goddamn season on it on my couch. We can order takeout, at some point, if you want. How does all that sound?”

 

Rey was staring at him, eyes wide, and for a moment he wondered if he’d gone too far, come across as too needy or possessive or… _fuck_ , maybe too sexually aggressive?

 

_Please don’t run away. I don’t know how to play it cool with you._

But then she swallowed and said, “You had me at ‘amazing shower’.” And in a flash, Ben had her in his arms again, carrying her up the stairs for the third time in less than twelve hours.

 

 

* * *

 

It was nearly nine at night when Ben pulled up to Rey’s apartment in the Highlands. She turned to look at him, feeling far more shy than any woman who had been debauched as many times as she had any right to. He was giving her his guarded, slightly wary face again; she knew that he was still worried she was about to bail on him.

 

 As if she could.

 

He seemed to gather himself, shaking his head just a little. He looked a little angry. “This isn’t over after today. You know that, right?” His eyes bored into hers so fiercely that she nearly laughed. Instead, she leaned over and kissed him long and deep.

 

“Yeah, Ben. I know that,” she said when she pulled away. “I’m not going anywhere, you broody fucker.”

 

She saw relief in his eyes and a teeny, tiny flicker of mirth at the corner of his mouth. “I’m not broody.”

 

“Babe,” Rey said with a fond sigh, “you are hands down the broodiest, grouchiest, most _peevish_ man I’ve ever met.” Ben frowned. “I’m not complaining. Your whole _I’m a big scary brilliant architect_ act gave me heart palpitations from the moment I met you.”

 

Ben’s eyes narrowed but Rey wasn’t fooled. He was fighting off a smile.

 

“Is that right?” he asked in his haughtiest tone.

 

“Yeah, that’s right. It was sexy as hell. Now don’t get a big head about it.”

 

Ben tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and leaned forward to kiss her one more time. “I want to take you to dinner. How about tomorrow?”

 

“I’m having dinner with Finn tomorrow.”

 

Ben wrinkled his nose. “Skip it.”

 

“No, you ridiculous autocrat.”

 

“Fine. Tuesday?”

 

Her heart did a little flip-flop at his eagerness to see her again. “Yeah. Tuesday is good.”

 

“I”ll text you.” And with a last nip to her bottom lip, Ben finally let her exit the car. She walked up the path to her apartment a little self-consciously, knowing he was watching her. She was wearing her party dress and carrying her heels and she felt ridiculous but also glowy and happy and… _God, what a night. What a_ day _._  

 

She let herself into her apartment and leaned back against her door, smiling. Rey couldn’t remember the last time her heart had felt so light, so full of…

 

 _Joy. It must be joy_.

 

And so _of course_ , that was the moment her phone dinged and her screen informed her that she had a new email. From Luke.


	10. Spaghetti and Sympathy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the Real World encroaches on Rey's bliss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi again! Long time, no post! I am exceedingly sorry for the delay on this chapter! I took the month of August off to celebrate my bday (woot!) and then struggled mightily with inspiration (womp!). So here's the deal: This chapter is not long, nor do I feel great about it. However! My hope is that by powering through this one, I'll have a clear mind and clear decks for the next chapter, which I've already started. I needed to get this one out of the way, is what I'm saying. So I apologize if it leaves you a touch unsatisfied, but I promise, REALLY promise, that the next chapter will be up in just a couple days. Sound good? Are you still with me on this journey?
> 
> ...do...do you still love me, guys? I really am sorry. xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

Rey perched on the very edge of a chair in the conference room, back ramrod straight, tapping her pencil nervously against her open notebook and glaring at the flat conference phone console in the center of the table. She glanced at the clock on her laptop screen. _8:06 AM._ Luke was late for their phone call.

 

It wasn’t as if she had any real reason to be nervous. Luke had finally responded to one of her weekly update emails, requesting that she be available for an early morning call. For God’s sake, she’d been _dying_ for some communication on his end, hadn’t she? For a little guidance from her mentor?

 

_Yeah well, that was before you spent half the weekend boinking his estranged nephew, dumbass._

 

Despite her anxiety, Rey felt her lower belly clench at the memory of all the naughty things Ben Solo had done to her not twenty-four hours ago. And then she scolded herself for allowing impure thoughts to distract her from the task at hand. Namely, a transatlantic phone call with her boss, who may or may not be furious at her. After all, Leia had known about the changes Rey and Ben had made to Luke’s plans. She had to assume he’d found out about them as well.

 

The phone console let out a string of digital beeps that indicated an incoming call. Rey was wound so tightly that she nearly knocked over her enormous mug of Earl Grey in an effort to answer.

 

“Hello?” Her voice cracked like some thirteen year old kid. She cleared her throat and tried again. “Luke?”

 

“Rey! Good morning! How is my intrepid young employee?” Luke’s voice was warm and amused, and Rey felt her anxiety diminish by about fifty percent. Well, maybe more like thirty percent. She felt a smile forming on her lips in spite of herself.

 

“I’m well, Luke. And how is my world traveling old boss? Is Spain to your liking?”

 

“Ah, well. Spain is as it ever was, my dear,” he sighed.

 

Rey rolled her eyes. “Whatever that means, you one percenter.”

 

Luke’s throaty laugh crackled across the connection. “You’re annoyed with me, eh? Feeling a little abandoned, are we?”

 

Rey smiled again and let out a rueful chuckle. She hadn’t realized just how much she’d missed Luke’s voice, his steady confidence. “Maybe just a little, yeah,” Rey sighed and looked down at her notebook. “I have about a million questions for you,” she said a little apologetically.

 

“Well, then. Let’s get into it, shall we?”

 

They spent the hour and a half discussing the project in minute detail. There were small clarifications Rey needed about the original plans, and there were vaguer aesthetic questions she had now that the park was beginning to take physical shape. In the past few weeks, the park had ceased to be a solely theoretical vision and begun to occupy real _space_.

 

Luke was surprisingly patient, even when Rey could feel her nervous questions becoming redundant. When she began to explain, for the fifth time, the reasoning behind the changes to the original bioswales, Luke broke in gently.

 

“Rey, I trust your judgement on this. You’ve explained yourself quite enough. Believe me, I know my nephew. I never kidded myself that he’d just accept my plans without argument. He’s always felt the need to subjugate. Bending things to his will…it’s a compulsion with him. Frankly, your solution sounds elegant. I had a feeling you’d know how to manage Ben.”

 

Rey felt a hot stab of resentment on Ben’s behalf. A need to subjugate? That was…an incredibly unkind thing to say about one’s own nephew. “I don’t know if I’d call it _managing._ And he’s made no effort to subjugate _me_. None at all.”

 

He hadn’t, had he?

 

If Luke heard the sudden tightness in her tone, he gave no indication.

 

“I’m glad to hear it. I thought you might work well together. You two have a lot in common.”

 

Rey let that go without reply, suddenly desperate for this conversation to be over.

 

“I think I have everything I need for now, Luke. Thanks again for your time.”

 

* * *

 

“Let me get this straight,” Finn said that evening as he refilled Rey’s wine glass. She raised a brow in question while she served herself from the enormous bowl of spaghetti bolognaise in the center of Poe’s dining room table. “You spent the night with Ben Solo and he sexed you up so good that you spent…the entire following day with him? On purpose?”

 

Rey rolled her eyes. “Yes, on purpose. It was…we had a really nice day, actually. He was…really sweet.”

 

Poe snorted and Finn looked unconvinced. Rey was growing weary of trying to convince everyone that Ben Solo wasn’t a monster. Her mind flashed to the text she’d gotten from him an hour ago and she shivered.

 

**Just got home from work. Please tell me you were as distracted as I was today. Lie if you have to.**

 

So blunt. So unselfconsciously forthright. She’d replied immediately.

 

**_I was also quite distracted. Not a lie._ **

 

**Good. I plan on distracting you again tomorrow. I’ll pick you up for dinner at 7:30.**

 

Rey bit her lip as she stared at her phone screen. Declarative sentences. Too bossy? Too…subjugate-y?

 

 _Goddamn it._ Rey _hated_ that Luke had gotten into her head this morning. What did he know? He was an ocean away, and Ben was _here_ , eager to see her. Eager to distract her. She shivered again. 

 

“Uh...Rey?”

 

Rey’s head snapped up to find Finn and Poe regarding her with matching expressions of bemusement. Poe cleared his throat.  


“I know that look. She’s having the Day After Sex Flashbacks.”

 

“Excuse me?” Rey sputtered unconvincingly.

 

“Oh, you know,” Finn explained, eyes twinkling, “it’s when you’ve had really great sex with someone new and you spend the next day flashing back to the naughty stuff you got up to.”

 

Well, if she hadn’t been having a sex flashback before, she certainly was now.

 

She scowled at them belligerently before digging into her spaghetti. After a few bites and a healthy gulp of wine, she said, with a touch of irrational defiance, “I’m seeing him tomorrow. He’s taking me to dinner.”

 

Poe and Finn exchanged a glance. They almost looked…sorry for her.

 

“What?” Rey asked irritably. Why did it seem like everyone knew more than she did about….everything, always?

 

Finn looked at her a little guiltily. “It’s just…I mean, this is Ben Solo we’re talking about here. Forgive us for being a little protective, but he doesn’t have exactly have a reputation for being well-adjusted boyfriend material.”

 

Rey flopped back in her chair, momentarily speechless.

 

_Seriously?_

 

Eventually, she ground out, “Correct me if I’m wrong, but you two spent _days_ telling me I should…what was it you said, Poe? Oh yes, ‘ _climb that grumpy Darcy like the thick Redwood tree he is_.’”

 

Poe had the grace to look sheepish. “I know, I know. And I stand by what I said. You needed to get laid, and _clearly_ he was the man for the job…I mean, look at you, you’re glow— _ouch_!” Poe leaned down to rub at the spot on his shin where Rey had just kicked him beneath the table.

 

Finn sent her an exasperated look. “We just don’t want you getting hurt, Peanut. Dirty-good sex with Solo is one thing. Long term dating? That’s a whole ‘nother kettle of fish. Just keep your expectations reasonable, is all we’re saying.”

 

Rey nodded dejectedly, wondering where the hell all the warm and fuzzy feelings from yesterday had evaporated to.

 

Poe’s nudged her under the table with own foot, a gentle retaliation for her kick. “Hey, Rey, come on. Don’t let us rain on your parade, ok? What the hell do we know? You and Solo obviously have a real connection, and I’d guess that’s a rare thing for both of you. Honestly, the fact that he’s clamoring to take you to dinner tomorrow…I think it’s great. It speaks well of him, you know?”

 

Rey nodded, looking at her friends hopefully. “I…I think so too. I wish you guys could have seen him yesterday. He was kind of amazing.” Poe and Finn both quirked a brow at that, and Rey blushed. “It wasn’t just the sex,” she muttered, embarrassed. “He was just so _himself_. It wasn’t like he was suddenly this sweet, perfect gentleman or anything. But it was like he let all his guards down.”

 

 _For me,_ Rey finished in her head. _He let his guards down for me._

 

Poe and Finn exchanged another knowing glance, but Rey ignored it. She’d abruptly had enough of everyone else’s Very Informed Opinions regarding her and Ben. She refilled her wine glass and theirs, and pasted a playful smile on her face, determined to lighten the mood.

 

“Did I tell you about the retracting skylight in the bedroom?”


	11. Atlas, Ugh

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Rey and Ben go on their first real date.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello frands! I hope you're ready for a little angst! This chapter became a little unwieldy, so I've split it in half. The chapter count might increase as a result, but for now I've left it at 15. Comments are my lifeblood! Let me know if you like it!

No Tuesday had ever seemed quite so interminable to Ben Solo. He’d woken early, and by the time he’d ducked into morning shower he was already buzzing with anticipation for his date with Rey. Their first _real_ date. He braced his hands against the shower wall and let the hot water rain down on his bowed head and concentrated on _not_ thinking about the shower they’d taken together just two days ago.

 

He arrived at the office at 7AM and immediately regretted coming in so early. The morning dragged, and his work frustrated, and he was consumed with a restless energy that made him feel raw and over-sensitized. By three o’clock, he’d given up on getting any decent drafting done and told Mitaka to take the rest of the afternoon off. Ben had never seen his assistant look so confused.

 

He rattled around his house for all of twenty minutes before he grew frustrated with himself and went for a long run in the punishing July heat. It helped.

 

And then somehow, thank God, he found himself re-showered, dressed and groomed, and knocking on the door to Rey’s little apartment. It opened, and the moment he laid eyes on her he felt his chest expand with a deep, vital breath. Good God, had he not breathed all day until this moment?

 

She was dressed in a color blocked maxi dress that draped off one shoulder and he noted happily that she’d left her hair loose, though one side was pinned back high above one ear with a tiny, pretty comb. She looked up at him and gave him that smile of hers and _damn,_ he was exactly, _exactly_ where he was supposed to be. 

 

“Hi,” she said, looking a little shy.

 

His felt his mouth twitch. “Hi.”

 

Before he could change his mind, he brought a hand up to cup her jaw and bent to drop a kiss on her smiling mouth. She stiffened in surprise for just a fraction of a second before she brought her hands to his shoulders and returned the kiss with bashful enthusiasm, pressing against him in that catlike way of hers that felt equal parts innocent and arousing. The kiss went on longer than he’d intended, and when Rey pulled away he could see a pretty flush spreading across her cheeks. He felt a rush of dumb, base male pride knowing that he was the cause of her sudden breathlessness.

 

“We’ll never leave if you keep kissing me like that,” she murmured a little unsteadily, hands still braced against his chest. 

 

He smiled and raised a brow at her suggestively as she stepped through the doorway, but he obligingly put a little distance between them and clasped his hands behind his back as he followed her down the stairs and out to his car. Once she was safely buckled in and Ben had navigated away from the curb, Rey asked in a voice that sounded more like herself, “Where are you taking me tonight, Ben Solo?”

 

“The St. Regis.”

 

“Oh.”

 

Something in her tone made him glance over at her, and he saw that her brow had furrowed a little and she was toying with the zipper on the clutch in her lap.

 

“That ok?”

 

“Oh, yeah,” she said brightly, looking up with a tight smile. “I’ve never been.”

 

* * *

 

 

The restaurant at the St. Regis was called Atlas, and it was just as intimidating as Rey had feared. She felt her shoulders stiffen and her neck tense up, which she _knew_ was an irrational overreaction, sure. But rational or not, places this fancy caused Rey’s body to react as if she was walking into a war zone. She’d had lived in neighborhoods that were _actually_ dangerous, borderline terrifying, yet _this_  damn restaurant had her as nervous as a suburban mom ordering at the counter of the Varsity for the first time.

 

The hostess seated them in an intimately lit little alcove booth. It was relatively secluded, which should have put Rey at ease, but the waiter who immediately descended upon them began discussing the wine selection with Ben in such French-laced detail that she felt her throat begin to constrict just a smidge.

 

Ben’s eyes flicked to her briefly and he folded the wine menu. “Actually, I think we’d rather start with a cocktail. Rey, gin’s your poison, yeah?”

 

The waiter’s face lit up as he enthusiastically described a few of the house cocktails—small batch gin only, of course. Ben watched her for a moment and then murmured to the waiter something about trying whatever the bartender was experimenting with tonight.

 

Once they were finally alone, Rey took a deep, slow breath and forced a smile in Ben’s direction.

 

_You’re being ridiculous. It’s just a fucking restaurant._

 

Ben looked completely relaxed, almost lounging against the leather banquette, one long arm extended along the back cushion. She’d never felt the difference between them more acutely than at this moment. Between the surroundings, Luke’s callous words, and Poe and Finn’s warnings, Rey was suddenly very much in her own head. She wondered with a little flare of panic what he saw tonight when he looked at her. Because she felt like a graceless bumpkin and he looked…damn near godlike.

 

And his face was inscrutable, as usual, but his eyes watched her intently.

 

“Is this ok?” he asked softly. He took one of her hands in his and began tracing circles in her palm with his thumb. It should have felt lovely, but Rey’s nerves were strung so tightly that the simple caress registered as an overstimulation.

 

“Yeah. Yes. Of course. This place is great.”

 

Ben looked at her for a long moment before replying. “You sure? Because you’re clocking all the exits right now like you’re thinking about making a run for it.”

 

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Rey muttered, even though he was right. There was the main entrance, a door by the bar, and what looked like an emergency exit at the end of the hallway near the kitchen.

 

“Pretty fancy for a first date, don’t you think?” Rey tried to keep her voice light but Ben’s eyes narrowed anyway.

 

“I wanted to take you somewhere nice,” he said carefully, something like uncertainty flitting across his face for a just an instant. He let go of her hand. Rey took another deep breath and smiled apologetically.

 

“I’m being stupid,” she muttered, eyes falling to her lap. “I get a little…weirded out…by places like this. I don’t really belong.”

 

“I fucking hate when you do that, you know. It’s beneath you.” Rey’s head jerked up, shocked at Ben’s harsh tone.

 

“Excuse me?”

 

Ben’s mouth curved in a smug little smile. “There, that’s an improvement. I’d rather see you angry than feeling sorry for yourself.”

 

Rey felt her mouth drop open, and for a moment she was stunned into silence. But that one moment was all it took for her shock to coalesce into a hot ball of lightening flashing just behind her sternum. She actually _felt_ her nostrils flare.

 

“You wanna elaborate on that, or are you content to sit there looking like a self-satisfied asshole for the rest of this date? A date which is on track to be _very_ short, by the way.”

 

* * *

 

 

Ben knew the moment the words ‘sorry for yourself’ left his mouth that his next move should be a sincere apology and a swift change of subject. He’d overstepped, and reason told him that nothing good would come from pushing this issue here, tonight, on their first fucking date.

 

But he’d never been very good at listening to reason. And he’d be damned if he was going to watch her convince herself of her own insignificance right there in front of him. Not on his watch. 

 

“I’m happy to elaborate,” he said calmly, keeping his face expressionless. “It is _beneath you_ to indulge in this internal narrative you seem to have. The one that never lets you forget that you come from nothing. That _you’re_ nothing.”

 

He watched as Rey’s hands clenched into white knuckled fists in her lap and an angry flush worked its way up her neck.

 

_Fuck._

“You complete and utter prick,” she bit out quietly, her eyes focused on the table in front of her. “You think you know me? Got my issues all figured out?” She looked up at him now, eyes flashing like hot copper. He loathed himself for noticing how beautiful she was when she was furious. “If I say I’m nothing, I’m nothing. That’s my right, you high handed, pampered, _clueless_ brat.”

 

He managed not to flinch. _High handed_ _, pampered, clueless…_ those words sliced at him, shamed him, yes. But it wasn’t the well-aimed insults that knocked the breath from him. No, _that_ particularly horrid feeling was caused by the aching, resigned world-weariness behind her fiery eyes. Christ, he was a fool. He’d suspected that her upbringing had been unsavory, but now he realized with a touch of panic that of course he was, in fact, clueless to the reality of her past.

 

But some stubborn part of him refused to let her retreat from this. Insults were one thing—hell, she could call him whatever she wanted if it would erase that sad and ancient look in her eyes—but he couldn’t just let her shut him out.

 

“Not to me,” he said softly.

 

“What?”

 

“You’re not nothing to me. And I want more than your whole ‘I’m a nobody’ act. It’s tired. And it’s keeping you from enjoying the evening.”

 

“Well I’m sorry to disappoint you, Ben, but that’s all there is. It’s no act. And right now _you’re_ what’s keeping me from enjoying the evening.” The waiter arrived with their drinks and set them down with a smile. He was just opening his mouth to say something when Ben sent him a wrathful glare of warning and he wisely scurried back to the kitchen.

 

Ben turned back to Rey and forced himself to unclench his jaw. “Here’s what I think,” he said quietly. “I think your story is probably pretty ugly. Your parents were truly shit, right? And you’ve decided that their shittiness extends to you. You should get over that. Stop letting those two losers define you.”

 

Rey blinked at him for a moment, and then she threw back her head and let loose a bitter, caustic laugh. It was a harsh, nasty thing that tore at his insides and made him want to reach out and crush her to his chest.

 

Rey shook her head and gave him a disdainful smile. “You think my problem is that I let my miserable birth parents ‘define’ me? God, that’s adorable. But I guess you _would_ think that, since you’ve convinced yourself that your own parents are the root of all evil.”

 

She was breathing a little fast now and seemed unable to keep herself from continuing. “Childhood vitamin deficiency, multiple rounds of lice, being perpetually unbathed and not knowing any better, not knowing my real birthday until the state told me because no one ever bothered to celebrate it. _Those_ things define me, Ben. You think my story is ‘pretty ugly’? That’s an understatement.”

 

Ben ground his teeth together, fighting off a sudden and potent red haze of fury at whoever had failed her, his Rey, so miserably. In a few moments he’d mastered himself enough to reply.

 

“So tell me,” he said quietly. “Tell me everything, so that I can get to work convincing you that none of it matters now.” Ben grasped one of her fists and gently chaffed at her knuckles until her fingers uncurled. Her fingernails had left little angry crescents in the soft flesh of her palms. He lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed the tortured skin gently while his eyes searched hers, feeling uncharacteristically useless and helpless as he did so. Finally, he watched as the angry tension ebbed from her shoulders and spine. She slumped a little in her seat and shook her head.

 

“I’m afraid you’ll look at me differently,” she said in a small voice.

 

“And I’m telling you I won’t.”

 

He was suddenly desperate to make her understand how special she was to him, how unexpected and singular his feelings for her were. She couldn’t possibly know what he was feeling if she thought that _anything_ would change how he saw her. He had to make her understand…

 

“I have another place, you know,” he blurted. “An apartment in midtown. It’s a soulless penthouse near the office that I bought back when my house was still a gutted mess. I fucking hate it. That’s where I’ve taken every other…” he grimaced and shook his head, “but not you.” He scrubbed his other hand through his hair in frustration. It was clear from the frown of confusion on her face that he was doing a piss poor job of explaining.

 

He sighed. “I’m sorry for pushing you. I just…I’ll take you home, if you want me to.”

 

Thinking to get the check, he was looking around for the waiter he’d scared off when he felt Rey’s hand on his chest. Immediately, hopefully, his eyes snapped back to hers and he reached up to cover her hand with his own, pressing her palm more firmly against him.

 

“Alright, Solo. You win. Take me to your place. I’ll tell you my story.”

 

Overwhelming relief was quickly followed by guilt. “You don’t have--”

 

“Your _house_ ,” she clarified, “not the midtown sex den that I _really_ wish you hadn’t just told me about.”

 

Ben winced at that. “Are you sure, Rey?”

 

Rey smiled ruefully. “I might not be able to _look_ at you while I tell it, but yeah, fuck it, let’s do this.”


	12. Bath Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Rey tells her story and Ben has his own revelation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! This chapter was a bit of a struggle. I hope you like it anyway! The chapter count will probably be adjusted next time! 
> 
> I love comments, comments are my favorite...

Rey studied Ben’s profile as he drove, the gathering twilight slightly softening his distinctive features. Gone was the easy, boyish smile he’d worn when he picked her up earlier. He looked faintly nervous now, both hands resting carefully on the steering wheel, eyes darting periodically to the rearview mirror as though he was taking a driving test and Rey was his evaluator from the DMV.

 

Perhaps it was childish, but Rey felt a certain smug satisfaction in Ben’s discomfort. He’d started this mess, after all. Once they’d bolted down their fancy drinks and left the St. Regis, some of her initial resentment had begun to creep back into her belly. And now a sort of buzzy recklessness was dancing across her skin.

 

 _“You’ve decided that their shittiness extends to you,”_ he’d said. _Damn_ him. It was _infuriating_ how clearly he saw her. And of course, because he was Ben _fucking_ Solo, he dismissed nearly twenty years of complex psychosocial baggage with a quirk of his arrogant brow. _You should get over that._

 

Rey took a deep breath, if only to stifle the sudden urge to laugh in giddy disbelief. Was she really about to tell this haughty, sheltered, brilliant, _distractingly sexy_ man about her fucking childhood? Was she going to swallow every instinct of self-preservation, every ounce of pride, with the first guy she’d ever had serious feelings for?

 

Yeah. She was. Because haughty and arrogant he may be, but he’d shown some humility tonight, too. And, truth be told, he’d already been a lot more honest with her about his feelings for her than she had about her feelings for him. Rey knew, deep down, that she owed Ben some vulnerability in return.

 

Suddenly they were at Ben’s house. Ben killed the engine and looked at her, apology in his eyes. She could tell he was going to tell her, again, that they didn’t have to talk about this tonight. And she also knew that if he gave her one more out, she was going to take it.

 

“It’s fine, Ben,” she said, just as he opened his mouth. “Really. Take me inside.”

 

He nodded, and then stopped her with a hand on her arm when she opened her door. He gave her a wry smile. “The driveway…you’re in heels again. Stay put, I’ll carry you.” Rey rolled her eyes but she let Ben have his way, pretending not to care that she was his arms again as he carried her up to the front door.

 

_Déjà vu._

 

Once they were standing in the foyer, however, Ben seemed at a loss for what to do next. Hell, Rey was feeling pretty lost, herself. But there was such tenderness in his eyes as he gazed down at her that she found herself slipping a hand into his, threading her small fingers between his larger ones. The gesture seemed to galvanize him somewhat.

 

“Right. Ok. How about you make yourself comfortable in the den and I’ll make us a couple of stiff drinks?”

 

Rey blew out a relieved breath. “God, yes. A stiff drink sounds amazing, thanks.”

 

Rey wandered around Ben’s studio while he busied himself in the kitchen, smiling to herself when she heard the rhythmic clatter of ice against stainless steel. Of _course_ he was using a shaker to mix their drinks. Ben Solo would _never_ just throw some Titos and tonic in a glass and call it a day.

 

Rey was thumbing through a book about the history of Saturday Night Live, faintly amused at the notion that Ben was into sketch comedy, when he reappeared holding a glass of something icy and delicious looking in one hand, and what was likely bourbon rocks in the other.

 

“Gimlet,” he said, handing her the drink. She took a generous sip and sighed. _Delicious._

 

He watched her carefully as he sipped from his own glass, one hand tucked in his pocket. He’d taken off his jacket and rolled up his shirtsleeves. Rey scowled inwardly. It was as if he _knew_ what that the sight of his forearms did to her.

 

Abruptly, Ben crossed over to his big couch and sat down at one end, angling his big body so that his back was against the arm. Turning slightly, he set his glass down on the nearby end table before holding a hand out to her. “Come here?” he asked softly. She walked over and took his hand and he tugged her gently down to the couch, arranging her between his long legs and guiding her back against his chest. He pulled a light blanket from the back of the couch, his chin brushing against her temple as he draped it over their laps.

 

And before she knew what had happened, Rey found herself cradled between Ben’s firm thighs, encircled by his long arms, head tucked into the crook of his warm neck. She inhaled deeply, which was a mistake, because his Ben-scent was as distracting as ever. He brushed his lips against her ear and Rey shivered.

 

She took a deep breath and cleared her throat. “Comfortable, Ben?”

 

Rey felt his chest expand. “I…you said you couldn’t look at me. You know, when you…told me…”

 

“Oh, right.” Rey’s heart squeezed. She _had_ said that.

 

Rey sucked in a shaky breath and took another gulp of her drink. “I have a couple ground rules.”

 

“Ok, fair enough.”

 

“You can ask me questions, but you can’t interrupt me, ok? So ask me a question, and then keep your mouth shut until I’m done answering.”

 

“I…ok, that sounds reasonable.”

 

Rey gulped at her gimlet again. “And if I don’t want to answer a question, don’t push me.”

 

“I would ne—ok. Yeah, ok.”

 

Rey finished her drink and squared her shoulders against Ben’s chest. The hard wall of muscle behind her was surprisingly reassuring.

 

“Ok. Where do you want to start?”

 

“Where did you grow up?” Ben’s question was immediate, rushing out of his mouth as though he’d been wondering about it for a while.

 

“Goodsprings, Nevada. It’s outside of Las Vegas. It’s a desert shithole. I mostly lived with foster families. I was passed around a few times before I landed with Aunt B. I was with her from age ten on. She was…she’s the closest thing to family I ever had. The years before her were…” Rey shuddered a little. “well, they’re not really worth talking about. Next question.”

 

“Who…did you know your parents?”

 

“Barely. They died when I was 4 or 5. They both overdosed the same night. Meth. A bad batch of it, probably. I suspect they were alcoholics as well, but it was meth that killed them, from what I understand.”

 

Rey felt Ben’s throat contract against her temple as he swallowed thickly. She felt a stab of sympathy for him. She already knew this depressing story, but it was his first time hearing it. It was bound to be a bit of a shock.

 

Then Ben shifted, curving his body more fully around hers as one arm snaked its way under her bent knees and pulled her firmly against him. And then somehow Rey found herself continuing without the prompt of a question.

 

“I was there, in the trailer, the night they died. I was asleep in another room. I remember waking up in the morning and trying to wake them up too, but I didn’t understand that they were... I don’t remember much else from that day, but I must have let myself out of the trailer at some point. Which isn’t surprising, because without someone to open the windows, the trailer would have gotten really hot. There was never any air conditioning. Anyway, like I said, I must have gotten out because my neighbor found me and took me to her trailer next door. I think she was the one who called the police.”

 

Rey felt Ben’s body go tense and hard around her. She closed her eyes, hoping desperately that he didn’t find her disgusting, knowing it was entirely possible that this was the last night he’d ever want to associate with her, let alone _kiss_ her. She curled in on herself, suddenly feeling like that sticky, sweaty, undersized child again, stumbling around the lots of the trailer park in her underwear, screaming for help. She felt the bite of the scorching hot gravel under her little bare feet and the glare of the sun stinging her eyes through her tears.

 

“Rey?” She heard Ben but she couldn’t answer. “Rey, sweetheart? Oh Christ, baby, you’re shaking.”

 

“N-no, I’m not. I’m fine,” she finally forced out.

 

She felt herself being lifted, and the sudden movement jolted her halfway back to reality.

 

“You j-just can’t stand t-to let me walk, can you?” she asked. She looked up into Ben’s face, hoping to see him smiling that almost-smile she’d come to love so much. Instead his face was drawn into grim lines, mouth clamped into a flat line.

 

“Hey, what’s…”  He deposited her onto his bed. How had they gotten to his room so fast? “Ben, c’mon. I’m fine. I—“

 

“Oh sure, you’re fine." Ben looked angry now. “You’re hands are like ice and your teeth are chattering but you’re fit as a fucking fiddle,” he muttered. He knelt at her feet and took off her heels just as he had three nights ago.

 

“Ben, I’m—“

 

“Rey, I swear to God, if you tell me you’re fine one more time…” he stood and went into the bathroom. Rey heard the sudden rush of water through pipes. Ben reappeared in front of her, hand reaching to brush the hair from her face.

 

“Ben, dammit, I’m ok now.” She couldn’t _stand_ the look of concern on his face. It was far too close to pity.

 

“You do look a little better, gorgeous,” he allowed.  “But you’re still cold. I’m running you a bath.” He shook his head, looking disgusted with himself. “This is my fault. I can’t believe I did this to you. I’m so sorry, Rey.”

 

Rey turned her head a little, leaning into Ben’s warm, broad hand. “It’s ok, honestly. I’d…I’d like to tell you the rest. There’s a happy ending, you know?” She looked up into his gorgeous, deep whisky eyes, feeling suddenly shy. “You wanna…maybe…take that bath _with_ me?”

 

Rey watched Ben’s face with some amusement as arousal battled concern for her. “Rey…”

 

Rey stood and walked to the bathroom, heart in her throat, hoping against hope that he would follow.

 

* * *

 

 

Ben’s brain short-circuited for a few seconds as Rey disappeared into the bathroom. He honestly hadn’t had any carnal designs on her when he’d decided to run her a bath. She’d just been so ice cold downstairs, lost to the shitty memories that he’d forced her to relive. Now he was left staring after her, half hard already at the thought of her naked skin submerged in hot water. He was a bastard for thinking of sex at a time like this, but she’d _asked_ him to join her after all and…

 

He crossed into the bathroom in two strides and found himself standing before a completely naked, glowing Rey, her dress and unmentionables in a pile beside her on the floor. His mouth went dry and his cock went from half-mast to full in record time.

 

He took a deep breath, eyes raking every inch of her lithe body. “You really should warn a guy before you do that, you know.”

 

Rey perched on the edge of the bath and dipped a hand into the water to test the temperature. “I’ll keep that in mind for next time,” she said with a soft smile. Watching her step into the tub and gracefully lower herself beneath the hot water was the single most erotic thing he had ever seen. His cock twitched enthusiastically when she closed her eyes and let out a little moan of pleasure. Any lingering misgivings he had evaporated into the steamy air.

 

He toed off his shoes and grabbed a fluffy towel from a nearby shelf. He folded it and bent to tuck it behind Rey’s head, cushioning her neck from the cold edge of the tub. She didn’t open her eyes, but her dreamy smile had him out of his clothes in record time.

 

He lowered himself across from her, his long legs tangling with hers deliciously. The hot water felt heavenly, and the bath oil he’d added made her skin of her calves feel like silk against his hair roughened thighs. He reached under the water, lifted one delicate foot into his hands and began kneading the arch with his thumbs. He smiled when her eyes flew open and her torso arched slightly out of the water with pleasure, the tips of her breasts exposed and pebbling in the cool air.

 

“Ben,” she moaned breathily. “that feels amazing.”

 

Arousal bloomed low in his stomach and his cock twitched again, but he forced himself to focus.

 

“Tell me the end of your story, Rey. The happy ending.”

 

She nodded, and looked thoughtfully down into the water for a moment, gathering her thoughts. He waited patiently, hands moving upwards to rub at the ball of her foot.

 

Finally, she spoke, voice quiet and echoing a bit against the tiles. “Aunt B was a godsend. She was strict as hell, but she was by far the best caretaker I’d ever had. She was like a drill sergeant about homework, though, and never let me slack off in school. I was always the poor kid, dressed in thrift store clothes and eating reduced price lunches, but…” she looked up at Ben with a shy smile. “I ended up valedictorian of my class, if you can believe it.”

 

Ben rolled his eyes at her in playful exasperation. “Of course I can believe it, Rey. Doesn’t surprise me at all. I knew you were brilliant the moment I met you.” Her smile widened a little at that, and Ben was amused to see a blush creep up her neck. Here they sat, naked in a hot bath, his hands making steady, erotic progress up her ankle, and Rey chose to blush when he called her smart. _God_ , he was so gone for this girl.

 

“Anyway,” she muttered, “after graduation I got a full ride to Louisiana State. They have a pretty good landscape architecture program…” Ben huffed a laugh her understatement. LSU had arguably the _best_ landscape architecture program in the country. Highly regarded and very competitive.

 

But he remembered her natural knack for engineering and couldn’t help but ask, “Why landscaping though? What made you so passionate about that?”

 

Rey gave him a wry smile. “People think nothing grows in the desert. It’s not true. Aunt B taught me that. We didn’t have much, but she had this desert garden behind her trailer. It was probably four or five times _bigger_ than her trailer, actually. She tended it with such care, and I used to love helping her, coaxing things to grow…I guess some of her green thumb rubbed off on me.”

 

Ben nodded and smoothed his hands up her calf, massaging the muscles there gently. Rey’s hips shifted a little, and he knew she was growing as aroused as he was. Her eyes fluttered closed again and he took the opportunity to stare at her openly. She’d stacked her hair on top of her head, but a few tendrils had coiled their way down to her collarbone, where they rested wetly against her tan skin. Her shoulders looked delicate, but strong, and her graceful neck rising out of the steaming water…she was so _beautiful_. She had no idea.

 

 _I’m in love with her._ It hit him like a bolt from the sky, though why he should be surprised he had no idea. Hadn’t he been more or less in love with her from the morning she’d stood in his office and rolled her eyes at his bullshit? Hadn’t he known, deep down, that she’d been a part of his desert dreams before they’d ever even met? Christ, yes, duh, he was in love with Rey. Of course he was.

 

_Fuck._

 

He cleared his throat, knowing this wasn’t the moment to share his epiphany. Tonight was about her. She opened her eyes again and gave him a heavy lidded smile.

 

“So Holdo recommended you to Luke, and here you are.”

 

“Here I am. Naked in a bath with Ben Solo.”

 

She sat up and moved over him until she was straddling his hips, her pert breasts pressed against his chest. She leaned forward and gave him a long, slow kiss while his arms wound their way around her back.

 

“I think I deserve a reward for being so forthcoming tonight. After all, I recounted some Very Serious Childhood Trauma.” She grinned at him so he’d know she was kidding. His arms pulled her closer and he rocked his erection against the slick heat of her core.

 

“Oh I agree. And I plan on rewarding you all night, gorgeous.” He captured her bottom lip between his teeth and gave it a nibble before pulling away and looking at her with serious eyes.

 

“Thank you for telling me. I...didn’t deserve it, with the way I acted.”

 

Rey just nodded, and kissed him, and then they both lost themselves to their shared rocking and grinding and pulsing until Ben entered her in one swift movement. And after that, the evening devolved into a steamy, delicious dream.


End file.
